


Farrago

by naiirvo



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, Rating May Change, Shenanigans, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naiirvo/pseuds/naiirvo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being spared by the first man Daud respected enough to provide him a fitting end to his life as an assassin, he found he was left with much to think about. Too bad all this contemplation got his Whalers so fed up they risked kidnapping the Lord Protector straight from Dunwall, a move that would effect the Empire in more ways than they could imagine.<br/>Corvo really isn't all that happy with the decision either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the "Matchmaking Whalers" prompt on the Dishonored Kink Meme
> 
> aw man im super nervous about posting this to the ao3 community, but i always find reading fics on here is more comfortable than on other sites so why not. maybe someone out there will actually appreciate this getting posted here idk  
> anyways i hope you guys enjoy the story!

If there's one thing Daud was, it was a natural born leader, and when their line of work involved assassination he couldn't afford the luxury of being taken by surprise. To survive this exceedingly dangerous life style you must be prepared for absolutely anything, lest you or one of those working under you loses his life or loyalty. That's happened enough during their stay in Dunwall. After years of only accepting the best to work under him, hammering them down until each man became even greater than they could have ever hoped, learning how to work together and provide what was needed of them. Their growth together had pulled them close, gave them undying loyalty not only to Daud but to each other. It was a tragic time for everyone when they lose a man.

The Whalers were a close knit group which Daud was proud to say were his. He knew each man by his gait, by they way they held themselves. Their reasons for following him were no secret, nor were their hopes and fears. He knows who works best together, and even could even tell you how much one of his men could drink before passing out.

Though to Daud's dismay they still managed to surprise him, such as when a handful of his Whalers thought it was a good idea to commandeer the Overseers' hounds for their own use. Though these were not the kind of surprises that leave people in a bloody heap behind inconspicuous bushes.

Well, this one just might.

Out of all the things his Whalers could possibly do, this was the farthest from what he believe plausible. He meant that in many respect. Why would they even want to do this, or better yet how were they able to pull it off? This was also one of the least desired encounters, all things considered. Hey, a new bundle of hound puppies would be preferable to this, and he was not fond of those things.

Sitting atop one of the old couches, adorn in expertly tied rope was... well...

Corvo Attano, who had certainly mastered the art of murderous glaring.

\---Over a year prior---

That damned Lord Protector, the guy whose charge he had murdered in cold-blood for nothing more than coin, allowed to him to survive. Mister head honcho of the Whalers had, albeit unintentionally, tarnished the man's name and cursed him along with his city into a torturous time of betrayal and suffering. Daud could be traced back to the cause of almost everything wrong in Corvo Attano's life. It was at the point were the Lord Protector had the right to some good old fashioned retribution in the form of a rusty blade shoved into Daud's eye.

Yet after all this, here he is, still amongst the living. If the missing key to the only route out of the flooded district was any indication, Corvo had the full opportunity to exact his revenge. He simply choose not to.

It was dusk when he first noticed the empty space in his pocket.

Daud stood over the map that held the plans to his greatest failure, his arms were crossed, mouth set in a thin line.

It had been far too long.

He had finally started to feel impatient.

It was extremely childish, he was an assassin for fucks sake, patience was a requirement for this job. It was also a trait he definitely did not lack. Usually.

Now he felt much too restless and just wanted to do something to fill up the time until Corvo finally managed to find him, even if that meant searching the Lord Protector out personally. It had been much too long since Daud had a chance to fight anyone he could consider his equal.

There had been no reports of their Lord Protector and the sun was already set. No one reported spotting even the blue of his long coat.

If it was true Corvo was the assassin who allegedly nullified Campbell's position of High Overseer, stalked the halls of a Boyle party and brought down the Lord Regent without a single person being aware of his presence, he should be much better than this. Much quicker.

Although, his experience was with the brutes of the City Watch up until now, it would be quite the change having to deal with the skills of Daud's Whalers. They were no stranger to the game of stealth, and the 'ghost of Dunwall' had less of an advantage as he wasn't the only one powered by the Void.

Perhaps he should send someone to check on the man? Though, he could always be waiting for the cover of nightfall, or looking for an alternative route.

Daud huffed.

No one without a boat was getting in or out without the sewer key, and the only known copy was hidden within Daud's pocket. Corvo had no way of getting out without confronting him first.

He was counting on it for the glorious battle to come.

One on one, no Whalers. They'll see who wears the Outsider's mark better, winner keeps their life and key.

Unfortunately none of this would work without that key. He knew as soon as he felt neither the key nor the bone charm (of course he'd take the bone charm, the little prick) within his pocket that his plans had burned up in the Void.

His hands balled into fists and, if it wasn't for the rubber gloves, Daud knew for certain his fingernails would be drawing blood from the palm of his hand.

"Sir?" Marcel watched from his position against the empty door frame as Daud's actions became increasingly rigid. It wasn't noticeable if you haven't met the guy before, but the Whaler was a people person, quite skilled at reading body language. Their leader had been an enigma in his first days of service, but he had practiced, he had watched. He could tell.

Right now something was not right with their mighty boss.

Daud paced about the makeshift office, scanning the room with narrowed eyes, carefully contained worry and tense arms, as if readying for an oncoming fight. There was that barely visible twitch in his left shoulder that their superior got when things didn't go as planned, and oh yeah, Daud also ignored him.

"Hey, Daud? Sir?" Even with the muffle of their vapor masks head honcho over there never seems to miss a word they say. This time however the lackey's words just passes him by. Too bad he still had to wear his mask, or maybe Marcel could try and give him the 'puppy eyes and pout' combo, that would surely get his attention. Okay probably not, but a guy can still put faith in the power of dramatic facial expressions if he wanted.

But he was worried at Daud's change of posture. It was a complete flip from just a few minuets ago, and Daud is usually the level headed one. This was never a good sign.

The Whaler took a cautious step towards the pacing man. Then another.

He needed to know what going on, make sure none of them were in danger. Also that Daud wouldn't have a heart attack, that's important too. Perhaps if he just-

Nope, sneaking up on Daud while he was having a minor panic attack was definitely not a good idea. Marcel could tell by the fist that made a high speed collision with his face.

The fall to the ground wasn't very fun either.

He couldn't even stop the cry of pain as he landed right into an uprooted floor board- Outsider curse this fucking floor and all the tiny pointy rocks that lay upon it.

DAMN if that wasn't a good reminder of why Daud was their leader.

Or... was it 'Dauds' now? More than one? Marcel sure couldn't tell for certain by the stars in his vision, but three Dauds were rushing to his side looking somewhere between apologetic and distracted...

Wait, scratch that there were actually four Dauds kneel beside him. Two now? Or was it three?

No, that's definitely four Dauds.

Fuck he could not concentrate.

Oh and look, there's more Whalers too!

Daud was hastily pulling off the man's vapor mask to check the extent of the damage he had done. The good thing was by busying himself with ensuring he hadn't broken his own underlings face, he seemed to have completely forgotten whatever was troubling him.

Or... maybe that was a bad thing...?

A few other Whalers were peeking in through the empty door frame and grand glass doors at the front of the room. One even appeared from up on Dauds private loft. They were all probably attracted by the sound of violence.

Luckily there was a more medically inclined Whaler amongst them. Daud passed Marcel off to William, allowing a proper check to make sure he isn't concussed from the fall.

Shit, he was back to being all tense again. Though he also adopted a bit of a guilty look with that tenseness. How sweet he really does care if his lackeys get hurt. The rest of the Whalers that had gather were still, all looking at their leader expectantly.

Daud was absolutely sure the key was in this room unless someone, Corvo Attano, had changed that without his knowledge. Since key was nowhere to be found in the artificially lit office, there was only one conclusion.

He stepped in front of his desk, planting his hands on the smooth surface and let out a sharp exhale.

"Corvo has stolen the sewer key."

The was a small chorus of muffled confusion and surprise. Surely Daud was joking... or were the rumors and tales that shrouded the man true? Had he beat them at their own game?

"So... then was he the one who did that," One of his assassin's asked, by the broad shoulders and militaristic way he held himself it was Stephano.

Daud looked over his shoulder to see him gesturing to Marcel who was still being checked over by William, only to turn around and clear his throat. His face took on bit of colour, embarrassed over the unprofessional reaction he had. Honestly though, his Whalers should know better than to try and sneak up on him.

"It was not." The group shared looks between themselves.

Their leader let out another small sigh and rubbed a gloved hand over his jaw. He had been expecting, hoping even, for Corvo to escape and come seeking him, ready to exact revenge. Their battle would have been glorious and just. Two of the best pitted against each other, one eventually falling.

Frankly, Daud was sure he'd be the one to receive the knife in the throat. There was no better end to his life as a hired sword than to die by the hand of someone he respects, someone who he could call his equal.

Someone whose life he unwittingly and regretfully destroyed, someone who deserved to end Daud's.

The expectant stares of his Whalers were starting to weigh on their leader.

Daud wasn't an immature young Serkonan anymore, he knew Crovo wasn't challenging him. He had the full chance to take his life or initiate combat and avenge his beloved Jessamine, yet he did not take it. Corvo had let him live by choice.

He doesn't know how long this mercy will last, but for the time they were being given a chance to escape. They had to take it.

His men could very well be in danger if Corvo changed his mind, and that is one thing he refused to leave to chance.

Thank the Outsider he had the foresight to plan an emergency escape route, all the necessary equipment already stored away on a boat hidden solely for means of a get away. All his Whalers were briefed on it; where the tunnel system to the boat is hidden, what circumstances you flee to it by, the works.

"Jacob, Stephano, Isaias," Daud barked, turning sharply on his heel to face them, wits gathered once more. All the his Whalers stood to attention, even William who was supporting Marcel up by an arm around his back. "we will be leaving by the whaling boat. Spread the word. Everyone is to get what they need and leave no trace, move in intervals of at least 15 minutes." It was standard procedure to thin out into small groups when traveling all together in a urban areas, even one so dimly populated as the Flooded District.

The three nodded before disappearing with the distorted sound of heavy fabric that came with transversals.

"And to the rest of you- did no one see anything out of the ordinary while on watch." It had was dark and a few of the men were coming in from their rounds of the areas away from the Camber of Commerce. Some of the men who were attracted by the commotion of Marcel getting punched to the ground has definitely been in the outer reaches recently.

But none of them could say they noticed anything.

"I was... knocked out." Tadeo's mask did nothing the hide the shame in his voice, his wilted posture making his seem even smaller than he already was. "I thought it was some kind of prank... I was patrolling a roofs one minute, and the next Jeremiah is waking me up."

"Yeah you had me worried there Tadeo," Jeremiah nudged the shorter assassin with his elbow. "hadn't come to switch shifts. So naturally I went out looking for him and what do I find? He's out cold on a mattress!"

"Are you sure he wasn't all tuckered out? Y'know, just catching some z's?" Marcel interjected in a gently mocking tone, which was a good sign that the punch hadn't effected him too much.

"Naps have never left me feeling like I was choked." Tadeo mumbled, but paused in thought. "Quite courteous of Mister Attano though, to leave me on a soft mattress instead of the roof... people slip off those you know." Always looking on the bright side, that one.

The handful standing around Daud's office seemed to have finally come to realization of what happened. They lost Corvo, escaping virtually unseen and unheard. Perhaps they had been prideful in thinking it was easy to contain the Lord Protector.

"So the only proof that we have of him being here is a previously unconscious man and a lost key?" His tone made them all stiffen. He didn't exactly sound angry but something was still off. The Whalers gathered around the filing cabinets and desks kept silent.

William spoke up though, still holding onto Marcel. "That is correct, sir. If any of us spotted something we would have either engaged or came straight to you."

They all nodded in careful agreement.

So it's true, Corvo had come and gone as a ghost of the Flooded District, completely unnoticed by each and every assassin there. No matter that they knew the area better, or the fact they knew about his tricks. He could be miles away by now.

Daud let out yet another harsh sigh, he seemed to be doing that a lot, and turned around.

His mind was still flooded with questions, all revolving around the fellow Serkonan who has undoubtedly escaped without so much as a fight. It was infuriating. "Go get your stuff," He announced. "clear everything, nothing is to indicate our being here. Make for the escape route as soon as possible. Tobias, help me clear this room."

No questions were asked, and for that Daud was thankful.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been little over a week, and all that was decided was they had no real destination besides gathering essentials and shore leave as they traveled up the west side of Gristol. Daud still seemed off.

In the privacy of the ship, all the Whalers had abandoned their vapor masks in their own quarters, not bothering to hide the tattoos that covered their skin. It was nice to be able to walk around without the confines of those masks that strategically hid any sort of marks across their faces while still trying to suffocate them with the humidity from each breath.

Even if they were leaving behind the Flooded District, the men had become somewhat attached to the adopted uniform.

They also kept the title of the Whalers, it had kind of stuck after their time in Dunwall. It was also much less conspicuous than "the Assassin's". Burrows had come to refer to them as such in the later commissions he sent them. Half the income they had earned was provided by his work, it was astonishing how many people this man wished dead. It was not something Daud would have thought possible, to be able condemn so many from his high up perch in society, but in the end they got their money so no one could complain. In it's own back-handed way the mass of hit requests was a good thing, since the entire reason why they moved into Dunwall was Burrows. He had need of their services so often it became easier just to settle down instead of the Royal Spymaster constantly having to track them down.

The Flooded District had made them used to not having to constantly move around like they had been doing before. It gave the Whalers a little more security in having a makeshift home to go to after every job.

In the end however Burrow's partnership was entirely too regrettable, no matter how much coin they had raked in. The death of Jessamine Kaldwin still weighed on Daud's shoulders, consequences of her demise that were evident around the city plagued his heart. The mercy shown to him by Corvo only made it heavier. He had done enough to ruin this already filth ridden world.

It would be much easier to simply settle down in Serkonos. Stay out of the way of politics and avoid wrecking this planet further. He had been beat anyways, found his superior, though in a way he held it against Corvo that he had given him a second chance instead of allowing Daud an honorable end. It might be wise to use the time given without garnering the specific kind of attention that comes from being an assassin.

Maybe he could become an actual whaler.

But that would mean he could be working mindlessly under someone he did not know, someone who could be a potentially terrible leader, and that was one thing he could not do. Asking his assassin's to switch occupations with him was an option, they already knew how to manage a ship and are experienced at hunting, but... it seemed like a waste of skill. Some of his Whalers came to him just to get out of that bureaucratic business anyways.

These thoughts distracted the man constantly.

Daud had never been an overly talkative person, but his silence since they left Dunwall was something every Whaler had took note of. It was rather troubling.

Fortunately, not all of them were too afraid of confront Daud in this state.

Though locking themselves in with him might not have been the brightest idea. At least in hindsight.

"William," Daud regarded the Whaler locking the door, slipping in from the space behind it. Obviously he was waiting to do that. A social ambush then. "Stephano. What can I do for you two."

He had been passing through the recreational area towards the kitchen. The day before, while three of his men made dinner for the two-dozen-or-so assassins, the small stove had malfunctioned, almost burning a panicking Whalers layered clothes to bits as his comrades rushed about trying to put everything out. Dinner had been rather soggy that evening. Nevertheless, he had told them he'd come and make sure the appliances wouldn't try to kill anyone again.

Every week during their stay in the Flooded District he sent a small crew to maintain the boat and make sure there were no rats nesting there. They had bought the whaling boat with the combined money they had earned and no one wished to let it rot away with time. The stove fire ball was possibly a prank from the maintenance crew, some of the men sent here were both tech-savvy and devious enough to try something like that.

He felt a distance twinge of annoyance at the tactics of these two. If they wanted to talk, they could do it without making it seem like a dire intervention. He was sure they had locked the other door across the way, the one that had access to the kitchen. Not that locking the door would really help them when it comes down to it. The room was dimly lit and too small.

"Sir... we... need to to talk." Stephano started, he was sitting at a table, ramrod stiff with both boots planted filmy on the carpeted floor. He was prepared to make a quick getaway.

Oh how Daud wished it wasn't inappropriate for him to roll his eyes.

"I can see that."

"We're worried about you Daud." William got straight to the point. "All of us. You've been acting strange." William was wringing his hands

Scratch that, it wasn't a twinge of annoyance, it was full blown 'can I thrown the nosy fuckers off deck'.

"Well," William stepped beside his fellow Whaler. As they say; there is safety in numbers. He looked Daud straight in the eye. "you seem like something troubling you. You're... erm... you're extremely quiet. Distant, too. Constantly. It's just not like you Daud." He squared his shoulders. "Marcel said all started before.... before you punched him. Sir."

In return Daud crossed his arm, adopting a stance that just dared them to try and have a heartfelt conversation while he was clearly not in the mood. He leveled them with a hard look. The two of them were tense enough to jump out the nearest port hole if Daud so much as raised his voice.

It could be the damage he did to Marcel that put them in such a state. The punch really didn't do much since he was able to prevent most of his weight from going into it, but no wonder they brought that part up they're probably worried he'll do the same to them. Maybe even worse. They're scared of him.

...That wasn't right.

He swears to the Void that they're not usually afraid of him. At least, it wasn't normal for them to show it like this. William was even being formal, he only does that when the others are around.

Maybe he really does need this "intervention".

Okay, he'll be the bigger man and admit it. Yeah, he's definitely acting irrationally defensive.

Forcing himself to calm down, he let out a small defeated sigh, shoulders going loose. They visibly relaxed as he slid into the seat across from Stenphano.

"So this is an interrogation."

The Whalers shared a look. "We just want to make sure you're okay."

Daud hadn't really realized he'd been acting so strange. He suddenly felt extremely tired, staring unseeingly across the room at the matted area that served as a small exercise ground. Every evening since leaving Dunwall they had held some kind of fighting tournament or wrestling match there, fitting as many of the Whalers in the tiny room as possible, bets being taken as two or more of his men duke it out. Daud never joins in on the actual fights, it didn't seem like it would really be fair.

"What do you want to know."

"Anything. Whatever has been bothering you."

"We want to help you Daud."

Ah, so they were taking the 'talking about it works' route then.

There were many things Daud could tell them; that he was angry about losing such a large contributor to their fortune, that he couldn't stand that they had to flee the Flooded District, that he was not able to kill the Lord Protector, many lies that could excuse his mood. Instead he told them the truth.

"Corvo Attano has been haunting my thoughts. His actions... they have been bothering me."

"How so?" William pulled up an extra chair.

"You are aware of how I feel about what I allowed us to do to the Empress, and what it caused for him and his empire?" Daud shifted in his seat, avoiding eye contact with his assassins.

"He still let me live despite my actions. He had the perfect opportunity, and he showed mercy instead. Of course, it could be a statement of how my kind of filth is not worth his time, but..." His brow furrows. "If our positions were switched, if he had taken the life of someone I held so dear, I would consider a swift end at the point of a blade merciful.

"It simply does not make sense to me, why leave someone who so thoroughly damaged your life to continue on? I can find no answers myself."

Both the Whalers stayed silent, intent on listening to the troubles spilling out of Daud's mouth.

"I also wonder of how he slip past all of us. Why was it even I was unable to notice him and-"

He paused.

Some of the other Whalers were gathering just outside, trying to listen in through the door, piled up at the keyhole. Nothing seemed to be private on this damned boat. They were trying to go unnoticed, but very much failing at it. This was not helping with his confession time.

"and I do not believe I lost my touch," Volume of his voice rising as he called to the ballsy idiots trying to eavesdrop. "at noticing people who are trying to use stealth against me."

They all heard scattered voices and quick transversal getaways through the door. The imbeciles.

Luckily neither William nor Stephano looked like they were about to run to the nearest porthole by misinterpreting his tone of voice. It told Daud he calmed down a sufficient amount, making the two of other participants in this intervention not feel as though their well-being was in danger.

Back to business, then.

"I simply cannot understand how he was able to escape being detected."

"You said it yourself, Attano is a mystery."

"Actually, I was meaning to ask you about that." Stephano leaned forward.

"The security was pretty loose considering his reputation. You're usually more careful about that stuff, Sir."

Daud stilled.

"I doubted that even a large amount of guards would stop the man. However I was anticipating the fight between us, so the faster he got to me the better. I would have preferred our confrontation be out in the daylight." Daud didn't mention his prediction of the fight's outcome.

But... he also hadn't really thought about putting out more guards, even if only to leave more area for Corvo to be spotted. He could have always just told his men to stick in pairs and send one to find them him while the other trails the Lord Protector if they happen upon him. Daud thought highly of his men and believed they would be able to find the escapee when he got out without need of such methods.

Perhaps he was the one being too prideful.

"It seems it would not have mattered either way. If he was able to take from my pockets without me being aware, he could avoid an increase in guards."

Though he might not have been able to catch him unaware if Daud didn't have his head up his ass about the 'glorious battle'.

He went silent.

"So... How do you feel about him?"

Daud leaned back in his chair, staring them dead on. "He has my utmost respect."

Anyone who could change the course of an empire so quickly without drawing blood deserved that much. Although there was still a kernel of resentment towards the man as well.

"Are you going to try and ask him about it?" Questioned William, leaning against the table in interest. That was not what he was expecting to be asked. Daud raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you think he will spare me a second time?" William only shrugged.

"Then what do you plan on doing, Sir?"

Daud gained a wistful look. "Settling down, most likely." Both Whalers look petrified at the new information. "I've been beaten and given a chance to live, I would rather make it worth while."

"But what we're doing is worth while!" Stephano exclaimed, hand clenching in anger. The prospect of losing an arm was more favorable than losing their boss.

"Murdering for money?" Daud shook his head. "You two know how much I regret the Empress' death."

William put a hand on the distressed Shephano's shoulder. "That was just one mistake... and what about us? I don't think anyone could lead us like you do."

"That is what's keeping me here." It seemed selfish, but Daud didn't want to think about what might happen without him to guide them. The two of his underlings already looked like they were about to tie Daud up just to get him to stay.

"Do not worry, you still have time before I make a decision."

"You know that means we'll be trying our best to convince you to stay." There was a fire in their eyes.

"So you're back to normal then, Sir? Are you going to be less...er..."

"Moody?" William supplied. It was difficult not to glare.

"I will make the attempt. You have my permission to confront me if I start doing it again, though I do not guarantee either of you will make it through that without being thrown off the boat."

Both of the Whalers faces were lit with joy, their goal of getting their beloved captain back to his old self seems to have been reached.

"Does this mean I am free to go?"

William nodded, handing over the rec-room key. It was about time he went to the kitchen to check on today's chefs. Daud could have sworn he smelled burning.

\---

Of course they had made a shrine on the ship. They used a corner of one of the rooms that were meant for disembodied whale parts and on the job oil producing. Most whaling ships had them just in case the ship ran out while at sea, but they were just big enough to produce what was needed so that only the large companies could mass produce the oil and make a profit off it.

Something had nagged Daud to come over there before the day was out, which wasn't unusual.

Often the distant call of the Void murmured to him when the Outsider wished to speak, and just as regularly Daud had to shoo away Whalers that would hide to try and catch a glimpse of the ever exalted Outsider. Not that they ever would, mind you. Where Daud would see a man floating in an inconceivable black void, the Whalers could only perceive the head assassin's side of the conversation.

Unless of course the Outsider wished it, but that has yet to happened.

Black mist blotted out the unnaturally coloured lanterns and rich purple fabric.

"Good evening."

The Outsider was looking indifferent as ever, arms hidden behind his back.

"You couldn't have waited until I was asleep for this."

All Daud got was a thin smile.

"You have had much on your mind as of late, have you not?" Of course he knows that, there's never a single thought of his hidden from the Whale God. He didn't answer his question verbally, only giving a weak glare up and the floating form of a man.

His smile only widened. "Corvo troubles you," He started walking in the empty space, creating a motion of stepping down a spiral staircase that was not there, leaving the black void behind.

"his motives are foreign," The invisible staircase curled around Daud's right, forcing him to turn in order to keep eye contact with the Outsider.

"as are his actions. He is but a point of intrigue, growing to fill your conscious thought." When his feet made contact with the ground, no noise was made, no shadow cast. This had never happened before with the Outsider, he only ever floated in the dark space. Daud narrowed his eyes.

Something cold pressed against the assassin's face, he barely managed not to recoil from the shock of what felt like ice. The Outsider had placed his hand against Daud's cheek.

The smile widened into a full on eerie grin.

"We have much to discuss, Daud."


	3. Chapter 3

In his own subtle way, the Outsider had advised Daud to keep with his Whalers. Daud didn't know how to feel about that really, the Outsider usually had his own interests in mind when messing with peoples' lives. So when he had looked into the possible paths of the future, he found it much more interesting with the assassins together. That probably wouldn't be as frightening of an idea if the Outsider's definition of interesting didn't usually revolve around devastating incidents that leave towns in ruin.

For all Daud knew, it would be safer for all of them to split up.

The two of them had walked around the oil processing room, the Outsider looking at the appliances with mild interest as he talked, Daud following at a distance.

It was eerie to see the Whale God interacting with the objects of this world. Or, well, not interacting. He had brushed past a plastic curtain without it moving, stood right in front of a light without a shadow being cast, he even bloody stood right in the middle of the disposal unit, a large hole with a tarp over it, without it falling in.

Yes, he knew about the whole 'Omnipotent Whale Entity' stuff, but damn was it surreal to watch.

They kept talking during the Outsider's exploration of the room, and he kept carefully insisting on keeping with the assassins. Daud wasn't the kind to do something simply because someone told him not to, he always weighed the facts before deciding anything, but it was getting extremely tempting to match the Outsider's childish games.

He cared too much about his Whalers though, so his final decision could wait until the rebelliousness left him.

Daud instead asked about Corvo, and about Dunwall. The Outsider just smiled and told him Emily was back on the throne, and a cure for the plague was in the process of being developed. He disappeared without another word.

The tidbit of information had been much more than he expected to get out of him, but it didn't satisfy his curiosity. No problem though, they had other connections and informants that could be more specific about the state Dunwall was in. Hopefully.

With that, he retired to his quarters to try not to think about their conversation.

\---

Daud's mood had definitely improved. As they kept moving up Gristol's west coast, the head of the Whalers had gone back to his normal state of command. Mostly. There were times when Daud got lost in thought, the only way to catch his attention was with physical force or sneaking up on him. Throwing fish works too.

Alas, Daud also kept up his end of the bargain, having already thrown Isaias over the side of the boat twice. Thank the Outsider for transversals.

But there was of course teasing that came with these zone-outs, the rest of the crew had heard all about the interrogation that went down. It mattered not if William and Stephano had kept their mouths shut because the Whalers who had eavesdropped on them heard enough. The information spread like wild fire on the boat.

They all knew exactly what he was thinking about when the master assassin spaced, and the jokes were incessant.

Unfortunately time did nothing to ease Daud's thoughts. Actually, if anything, they only got worse. He started wondering about more personal things; he wonders about how Corvo dealt with the loss of Empress Kaldwin and what happened at Coldridge. About how he had met the Empress, what she and her daughter really means to him. How he learned to fight, what part of Serkonos he hailed from and what his childhood was like. Though there always was the usual 'why did he show a foul person such as I mercy' looming at the back of his mind.

It was infuriating.

What surprised Daud though, is the fact he didn't focus on the kernel of hatred he had for Corvo for being better than them, for denying him a sweet end. Over the years he had found that left alone with their thoughts, humans tend to focus on the negative, ending up hating those they do not fully understand. People might have been able to find a friend in those they did not expect, if only they forgot about the negative for just a moment. Unintentionally Daud had found the questions more intriguing than the resentment.

A Month passes as they make their way up north to the top part of Tyvia. They were stopped in a small, difficult to reach port west of Samara. According to a few of his Whalers the trip was totally worth it for their icecod dishes.

So there they were, all two-dozen-plus of them, stuffed inside a tiny, homey pub in a miniscule town at the top of Tyvia.

None of the Whalers had bothered to wear masks in there, as going to a pub is simply no fun at all if you couldn't stuff your face. They were loud, excited and covered in tattoos, their company was scaring the last hairs off the short pub owner's head. It didn't help that they actually were a band of professional assassins, but they couldn't be denied access just by their looks as they had the one thing that counted; coins.

This left the Tyvian man to tend to his customers, afraid that they'll end him out of spite. If you looked over at the right moment, you could even see him pray for the safety of both him and his freshly cleaned tables.

But Daud wasn't in the mood for being amused at such things right now.

"Uh oh, he's doing it again." William peered at him from his seat to the right. Daud was staring at the wooden counter they sat at, he face both contemplative and troubled. He needn't worry about his Whalers, they knew they were not to destroy anything or hurt anyone while enjoying the pub, and he trust them not to.

"Daud's in a Corvo Mood~" Isaias, sitting two seats right of William, was careful not to let his singsong voice carry over to Daud. Not that it would matter since when he zoned, he really zoned.

Whalers were sitting everywhere around the pub, most at the tables behind the men sitting at the counter. They were mostly enjoying good food and drink, talking in overly loud and animated conversations. There was off key singing, poker games, and even a chugging contest.

In the warm light of the pub's fireplace the Whalers took the chance to just enjoy themselves.

"How long do you think this will last. I bet an hour at least."

Marcel snorted. "No way, someone's totally going to snap him out of it before then. Probably be thrown across the room too."

"Bet it'll be Bentley, he's already sloshed enough to make that mistake." Stephano just snickered, turned around on his stool so he could watch his fellow Whalers' antics. Some of them had gotten to trying to catch thrown food in their mouths without using their hands. A piece of bread hit one of the older ones in the eye.

"Hey maybe if we shout 'look it's Corvo' really loud, he'll start paying attention again." The theatrical whisper from Isaias prompted a exasperated sigh from William and snickers from the rest that sat at the counter.

"Yeah, then he'd probably think we're serious and evacuate us. I wouldn't be able to finish my food then..." William prodded at his cooked fish, totally not whining. Three Whalers had gotten up on a table and started to do the Can-can.

"Really? I thought he'd more, y'know," Jeremiah took a swig of his beer. "get down on bended knee and purpose to him." The men gathered at the table laughed.

"I doubt either of them are looking for a serious relationship right now. Commitment just doesn't seem like their thing."

Marcel gave an exaggerated frown with both eyebrows raised, leaning over the counter to reply to his friend's joking tone. "Dunno about that Steph, with the way Daud keeps acting it might be better if they were just locked in a room together."

The sounds of merriment was cut short as the door to the small building burst open in a flurry of snow.

A man and a little girl came rushing into the pub, the new presence had actually managed to snap Daud out of his trance, as well has scare Marcel off his stool.

"Sigfrid they are here you must get-" he only stopped his urgent yelling a moment to take in the Whalers, a few of whom had stopped to look at the newcomers. The man lowered his voice and pulled the girl closer to him. "you must get to the cellars. Take Elina. Please."

Something had happened here, Daud realized, and he intended to find out.

They looked scared as Daud walked over to them.

"Is there a problem."

The newcomer just stared at him wide-eye pushing the girl who was silently sobbing behind him.

The pub owner just put him arm on the taller mans shoulder. The two of them had strikingly similar features, most likely family.

The stout man had been with Daud and his Whalers for the last hour, and as scary as they were, the most threatening thing any of them did was tell a bad joke.

"Bandits." He said in his heavy accent. "You best run now lad. They have no mercy."

So the town had a bandit problem. That would explain the shear emptiness of the place.

Guess he'd have to fix that.

Daud left without another word, hand on the hilt of his sword. By now all the Whalers had noticed the change in mood around the bar.

The town wasn't too big, on a clear day you could see from one end of the town to another. Today though there was snow whipping every which way. On the other side of town, away from the pub and port the Whalers had come from, there was chaos.

It wasn't hard to pick out who were the bandits with their unruly looks, clothes that were too mismatched to be from someone who had and honest job. They were creating quite the ruckus, terrorizing the towns people. The air was filled with shouting, screams, and occasionally shattering glass.

As Daud made his way down to them, he was passed by some of the fleeing people carrying their children or whatever else they dare not leave behind.

"Please not my baby!" A man yelled as his child was thrown into a cart.

"I'll give you all my coin just don't hurt them!" Another shout from mother down the road. An old woman was standing between her family and two loaded guns.

A pair of teenagers scream as some bandits got too close with a knife and their wandering hands.

Daud clenched his fists.

These men had a leader, the marauders that were closest to the pub and making their way down the street were two burly men. With combined effort they were supporting some kind of throne that held a particularly gruesome bandit that was shouting out orders with a crazed grin. He had a grand fur cape and some kind of scepter made from miscellaneous metal parts, topped by two Overseer masks held together by copper strips.

Daud stopped a few meters in front of them, completely ignored by most of the bandits and townspeople.

"I must ask that you call off your men."

His rough voice had got the attention of the bandit king. There was a bark of laughter almost going unheard over the cries of the towns people. Behind the king and his two brutes he could see homes and stores being ransacked.

It was pretty clear that they had just arrived, and it looked as if there hasn't been any bloodshed yet, but who knows how long that will last.

"Aw~ the brain damaged old man wants us to stop~" He had a toothy yellow smile across his scarred face. It seemed like he also favored the art of the tattoo, judging from the one going down his neck. Many of the other bandits had them visible as well. He stood up on his throne, yelling to address his bandits. "Hey first man to get this guy to piss his pants gets the first pick of the booze!"

They were starting to draw the attention of the bandits, as well as some of the townspeople who were trapped by them. Other residence had wisely taken it as a chance to try and escape.

Not that it seem to do any good, as they only got chased by some of the less interested crooks.

"Then should I doubt you would consider taking the easy option and fleeing." The bandit king just jumped off the over-decorated chair, landing in front of his brutes.

They still have a fair distance between each other.

"Fuck, you really are a dumbass. Did you hurt your brain during the Morley wars~?" The man said it in the tone of someone talking to a young child. "Look around meatsicle," He raised his chin at Daud. "we've got you out numbered," His posture was even more arrogant than his tone, gesturing to the town around them.

"what are you gunna-"

Daud had him around the chest, standing behind him with a knife placed against the bandit king's neck.

His transversal had startled the two large men, causing them to jump back in surprise, dropping the throne on the snow covered ground. One of them wasn't fast enough and it caught his leg, snapping the bone.

Everything had gone still then, save for a few muffled cries or whines from the brute and a few of the townspeople.  
The snow kept falling as they all stared at what was happening in the center of town.

"What would your followers do," Daud asked. "if I were to slit your throat right now." He turned them to face the rest of the bandits.

The pseudo king just made a strangled noise, clawing at the glove covered arms of his captor.

Maybe addressing the men themselves would provide a better answer.

"Tell me," He called, voice demanding respect. "would you leave this place if I said it would save your leader."

The bandits did not look all too worried, in fact some of them seemed a bit excited.

"Just as I thought." He kept his voice raised.

That was verbal cue enough for his Whalers to strike, coming in from the tops of the buildings. There may have been double the amount of bandits than Whalers, but they managed. Each assassin held at least two at knife point, some had multiple bandits tethered, others had thrown them down and had their boot press to the necks of the unruly men. Some had even found more creative ways of dealing with them. None of the bandits were left unattended.

The king flinched at the all too sudden capture.

They may have just came from a pub, but none of them were quite yet intoxicated enough to not be able to do their job.

What would they do with the bandits. Corvo probably would have found an alternative route like sending them off to work under supervision in the military, but that takes some planning and coordination. There was also the scale, one man wasn't too hard but it was obvious that neutralizing their king would do nothing to stop them as a whole, and how difficult would it be to do the same for forty other men.

Daud looked to the townspeople. "What are the crimes of these men."

The overly scarred man in his grip squirmed a bit. "H-hey we're just tryin-"

A shake and a gruff whisper. "That question is not directed at you."

The man whimpered.

"What have they done to your people." He addressed the town again.

They were all fear stricken. With the attack from the bandits and the stunts of his Whalers, Daud honestly couldn't blame him.

A woman spoke up. She had partly wiped away tears on her face and was holding up part of her clothes that had been cut with a knife, shallow slice against her pale shoulder. "They're rotten thugs!

"They've been terrorizing every village in the area!" She cried, voice thick with held back tears, accent as heavy as the man in the pub.

"For three years these swine have been harming our town! Our people! They steal our food, our money-"

Her voice was rising with righteous anger.

"last year they took my children-!" A choked gasp, wet tears flowing anew over her rosy cheeks, snow catching on her long hair. "I found their tiny frozen bodies tethered to the trees-"

She had to hide her face, sobbing at the painful memories.

The bandits were all just a waste of space, then. No surprise there.

He whispered in the kings ear, slow and menacing. "And what do you have to say about this."

The bandit leader was struggling even harder against Daud's firm grip, leaving a series of shallow cuts on his neck from the contact with the knife, but he said nothing. Daud was pretty sure the captive had emptied his bladder out of fear during the lady's explanation.

Also the coward seemed close to biting off his own tongue in dread.

All other people looked to Daud for his verdict.

They could pin the bandits up to the tallest and most precarious trees and glacier faces with rusty nails and pour boiling water over each screaming man. Leave them to freeze as they did to the children.

Corvo would most likely disapprove of those methods. Daud sighed.

"I choose mercy."

Oh he could just feel the man starting to come up with snarky comments to throw at them when they were out of range from the town. He was under the impression mercy meant letting them go. Instead Daud slit his throat.

None of the other bandits had time to scream as his Whalers' knives came down on them.

Thankfully the townspeople had took a hint and were averting their eyes as the blood was spilled.

Daud wiped the red liquid off his blade with the fur cape of the corpse, then dropped the dead man into the crimson stained snow with disinterest, calling for all the bodies to be cleaned up and never found again.

The Whalers got to work, leaving Daud to head back to the pub.

Each and every one of the towns residence were shocked, ushering the children away from the gruesome scene. It was regretful that Daud didn't think to ask them all to leave before they were scarred for life, an oversight cause by not being used to working around civilians.

"We're free." The woman sounded all too relieved.

"Maybe we can get some people to immigrate back here. Get enough people to work the fishing business full throttle." They all seemed shaky and close to tears. "Get the tourism back."

Voices were tight but hopeful. "We might not have to starve next year."

Interesting.

He pushed the door open to the pub, letting the snow into the warm building.

The owner of the establishment was there to meet him, hollering praise in a tearful voice. He had been watching the events outside from his doorway.

While the pub owner could have very well been lacking a proper amount food, he and his Whalers had been allowed to eat it all without remorse. Fear had prompted him to simply appease the men who could very well be the same as those who harassed previously.

"I'm here to pay."

"Oh no no no!" The stout bartender looked quickly behind at the man and child that had come in here before. "You've k-... you've rid the town of those brutes! Y-you needn't pay, you've earned it! You and all of your men!" He was waving his hand and shaking his head with fervor.

Daud wonders if that was truly his sentiment, or if he was simply afraid he will suffer the same fate was the bandits.

Or perhaps both.

Their presence would trouble the townspeople. Daud just gave up, reasoning with the man would be no use.

Isaias was waiting for him at the door. "We're about ready, Sir." Daud nodded, said his thanks for their hospitality, and left with his Whalers.

He left triple the amount of what they owed in front of the pub owners door.  
\---  
As they steered their boat away from the small Tyvian town, Daud had realized something. During the time dealing with the bandits, his mind was completely void of thoughts of the Lord Protector.

Well, not completely but Corvo had stopped troubling him for a while.

It was a nice reprieve.

Maybe he could keep working as an assassin without worrying about being distracted. In fact, it might be better that way, as it seemed to provide a nice change of thought.

He still tried not to think of what Corvo would have said about the bloodbath that occurred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just going to mention that this was an extremely fun chapter to write harrharr


	4. Chapter 4

When Daud told William and Stephano that he would be staying as head of the Whalers, they were ecstatic.

So with no more anxiety over the possibility of losing their favorite master assassin, they got back to work, spending the next months traveling over Tyvia, down to Gristol and around Morley.

They had taken on some assassination jobs from the few old contacts that still was in business. None of them were particularly difficult, but it required enough planning that it monopolized Daud's thoughts for a few days.

He had picked up a habit of doing extensive background checks on each person they were meant to kill, and the Whalers noticed this. Some of the targets had even been neutralized by means other than murder, probably because they had family or something akin to that. It wasn't hard to deduce that this was from the influence of one Corvo Attano.

Assassinations and bounty hunting weren't the only jobs they had taken up though; the Whalers had ended up, more often than not, doing odd jobs in quiet cities and towns for a small amounts of coin. Not like the amount mattered after all, they already had enough just saved up from Dunwall to live comfortably for quite a while.

Daud said all the extra work was to keep them busy while they found new targets, but his Whalers kept whining about how the mundane tasks were. The complaint were pretty much pointless, as those bastards always ended up having a stupid amount of fun while they had helped clear snow out of towns, fix damaged roads, set up for holidays, and other miscellaneous activities that didn't rake in too much coin. It was enough to give Daud a small reprieve from the confusing thoughts surrounding the Lord Protector.

Besides, their employers had often invited them for food afterwards as an extra thank you. It was nice to have something warm prepared for you by someone who wasn't four squabbling assassin's stuck in a small boat kitchen, only accessible foods being stuff with far off expiration dates and lots of salt.

Plus, Daud knew just how shady they looked, and usually people wanted the Whalers out of the town as soon as possible. Guess that goes to show you how much the northern Isle values dedication, if it didn't matter that you seem like you would murder everyone in town by nightfall, as long as you worked hard.

At some ports, they were stopped by officials to check if they were harboring anything illegal. More likely, though, that they were being secretly checked in case they were wanted men who could get someone a promotion by being captured. Apparently there had been an increase in pirate activity recently, giving the head of each rogue an increase in bounty due to the trouble they were causing.

With the combined effort of Daud and William's professionalism however, they were able to avoid being extensively questioned and searched. Also the Whalers had taken to always having vapor masks nearby in case they needed to hide their tattoos quickly. The fake documentation that they had made helped too.

Honestly, sometimes they all just missed not having to travel around all the time, dealing with figures of the law and such. The Whalers kind of missed the makeshift home of the Flooded District.

They were just finishing up a small delivery job, from Gristol to the Morley, cargo was being unloaded, work only lit by the full moon and a few lanterns. Unfortunately someone hadn't connected the crate to the crane correctly. The large wooden box fell off the hook and straight onto a series of barrels and smaller crates that had still been on deck at the time.

It was a mess.

There was alcohol spilled everywhere, as well as rotting vegetables, dead rats, plaster, and probably various kinds of hallucinogens and other illegal substance.

At the time there was a little bit of rain too, not enough to wash anything away, but it sure helped the spilled drinks set the plaster's chemical reaction into play.

Daud was extremely glad to say that it wasn't one of his Whalers at fault for that.

The crew they were meeting at the port insisted on helping, and were consequently the ones dealing with the only crane. Pity, the task could have been done much sooner those nimrods hadn't stepped in, and with less mayhem too.

Then they had the nerve to blame it on Daud's men, demanding payment for each crate they lost and everything in them.

It was cute how the men from Morley believed they could threaten an elite team of assassins. Not that they knew that of course, but in past experience the Whalers looked dangerous to almost everyone.

Thankfully, his men decided to take care of these guys for Daud.

Well, more like have a little fun with them, but it still...

Some of the Whalers present when the men from the port tried to confront their head honcho had taken to quickly disappearing in and out of the group of Morley men, slicing off parts of beards and belts and suspenders. They were all singing about how they'll cut something else off if they weren't paid their due.

The locals had no idea what was happening as their pants slipped to the floor.

As stupid as they seemed before, the men were wise enough to drop all the bags of money they had on hand and went running.

Or tripping, in the case of the men with no belts.

It ended up that the Whalers got much more than they were promised, and Daud didn't even have to grace anyone with an icy glare.

That still left them with the mess on their boat though, and the smell of wasted alchol mixed with rotting vegetables and dead rats was not a good one.

So they dumped the rest of the crates off on the port and left, just as a precaution so they don't have to deal with any sort of authority type group while doing clean-up.

Everybody refused to let Daud help in cleaning, saying that "he was their leader" and "he deserved a break from such lowly tasks". Not being allowed to help the men, Daud opted for "supervising" instead, and by supervise he meant leaning against the railing, enjoying the cool night air while his men busied themselves with tidying the deck and entertaining themselves.

They were singing about drunken whalers.

Actually, Daud had to admit they were quite good at carrying a tune. If the idea of being a bounty hunter started to lose it's sheen, they could always become entertainers. Probably be quite successful at it too.

"Excuse me, Daud Sir?"

"Jeremiah," Daud didn't bother to turn around from his place against the railing. "shouldn't you be steering the boat."

"Naw, Tadeo's got that covered." He got a simple hum in response, almost going unheard with the chorus of singing assassins in the background.

There was a moment of pause, Jeremiah wondered if Daud was slipping into one of those distant moods again. Although he could always be tired, their master assassin had been up since an unholy time trying to figure out how to bring a large amount of crates and other containers, presumably with illegal content, onto their boat without being noticed. It was a surprisingly difficult task since all the crates were situated in the direct middle of town and the roofs of the buildings were very low and thin.

"I was wondering... where do we plan on going? Are we just traveling down Gristol's coast or..."

With a light push off the railing, Daud turned to face his Whaler.

"Yes, there are still some old contacts that might be possible to reach in Gristol." But Daud could tell there was more on his mind, but he made no attempt to vocalize it himself.

"...Is there somewhere you wish to visit." Jeremiah brightened at his leader's accurate deduction of his posture.

"Actually, yes. I was kinda hoping we could visit Ral."

Ral was one of their more enthusiastic contacts from before Dunwall. As a Pirate King, you always had people you needed knocked off the board. Too bad pirates weren't quite known for their stealth, but that's where his Whalers came in.

Jeremiah cleared throat.

"Uhm, one of our filters seems to be... failing." Broken filters on a boat could only ever spell fires and explosions. Daud's expression went serious.

"Are you completely sure? When did you find this out?"

No matter how well the whale oil is processed, when being used at such a large scale as in a whaling boat, after a while clumps develop that don't react well in the engine. Without a filter it would cause an explosion that would surely render the boat beyond repair.

Pirates were probably the best supplier of boat parts for them. They had a wide range of salvaged, stolen and even good quality custom-made parts, but usually they were either severely over priced, unless you had an in with their leader.

"Just this morning, Sir. Wilhelm found it, and both Tiberius and I had checked it over. Seems it didn't like being over worked after so long of going unused."

"How long do you think it will keep."

"None of us can say for certain, Sir, but we can probably make it at least a few more days, if not weeks, before it gets dangerous." He stood a little taller. "We'll all be keeping a close watch on it."

"Alright, set course then for the Serkonan archipelago. No detours or extra stops unless it is absolutely necessary."

Marcel, who was just to their right, carefully scraping off some set plaster that was stuck to the floor, looked up at the two of them with hopeful eyes. The rest of the crew kept singing about stabbing someone in the heart with a rusted cleaver.

"We're going to the Pirates den?" The Whaler was all but jumping for joy at the prospect, which only got worse at Jeremiah's enthusiastic nod.

"HEY GUYS," His voice was loud enough to interrupt the chorus of their song. "GUESS WHAT? WE'RE GOING TO RAL'S!"

The entire deck burst out into cheering.

On this boat they all knew that seeing Ral meant being served copious amounts of amazing quality booze stolen from pompous officials.

\---

The Outsider had called to him often during their time traveling from place to place, but... it didn't seem like had a motive for any of it. Or, at least none that Daud could pick up.

They just sort of chatted. Which in it's own respect, was strange, but something in the back of his mind told Daud that the Outsider was hinting at something. He had to be.

When Daud brought this up, the Whale God only smiled and changed the topic. From the jobs the Whalers had been doing to the towns they had visited to the food they ate, he asked about it all.

The Outsider even supplied Daud with some information of his own, all about Dunwall and how the plague vaccine had been proven successful and their plans to clean up the Flooded District and just how amazing of an Empress young Emily could be.

There was nothing really about the Lord Protector though.

\---

The Whalers always had a certain town they stopped off at when at the archipelago. It was a small village on the southern side tucked in beside a cliff face and a large beach.

Usually it was bustling with life, people coming and going, bartering in the marketplace. Shouts of the children running in between the tall stone houses, or on the sandy beaches beside it.

Today it stood empty, save for a single group of people standing on the beach, one of them bring the Pirate King.

They docked close to the shore instead of in their usual hiding place, nervous about the lack of people in the town. But all troubles were soon forgotten as they waded through the shallow water, getting close enough to see the huge welcoming smiles the pirates had.

Other than some extra silver lining her dark dreadlocks and maybe a few new wrinkles, Ral didn't look much different form when they last saw her.

"Daud!" Her arms were open wide in a warm welcome as they stepped onto the beach. "I heard your ship was in the area! Almost thought it ain't true! Glad I know you still stick to your routines. Ha!"

"It's good to see you, Ral." The master assassin matched her giant grin with a soft one of his own. So she hadn't managed to kill herself and lose all her land while they were gone, that definitely was a good sign.

"Aaah, what's it been, six years since ya last sailed these waters?" She grabbed Daud's face, pulling him down and giving him a quick kiss on either side of his cheek before her hands slid down to his shoulders, giving him a bright smile.

"I do wish you would stop doing that..."

"I'll only stop once you stop blushing like a maiden!" Her laugh was fond, as was the light punch to his shoulder. "Come now, your people must be famished!"

The loud call of agreement from the Whalers kept her a laughing as she turned to lead the way.

"You know, it hasn't even been three full years since we left for Dunwall."

"Really? Swear it was longer than that. Maybe I just missed those beautiful Assassins of yours."

"I believe they prefer going by 'Whalers' now." The Pirate King gave Daud a look. "It's less suspicious that way."

"I see!" She peeked back at the crowd following them, both Daud's men and Ral's crew were having an animated chat amongst themselves. You could hear them retelling the tale of how they strung up a bunch of Overseers by the skivvies because they'd been manipulating farmers. "That would explain the cute uniform they've got going on there."

Daud just shook his head, fond smile turning to something more serious. "It's only been three years, Ral, what happened to this place?" He gestured to the now empty town they were passing though. For the first time that day her smile disappeared.

"Ah, right. Strangest thing, a few months ago it had been completely fine, everybody goin' about their lives all happy like, but all of the sudden, FWOOSH," Her hands made a motion like a huge wave. "Flooded everything. Can't really tell right now 'cus of the low tide."

Daud's eyebrows were raised. Distantly he wondered if the Outsider had anything to do with it. Unexplainable things were always his calling card. "And the residence?" She waved her hand dismissively.

"They're fine. Knew the sea well enough to know she wasn't quite happy, so they took cover in the village just uphill. Decided to stay there too, when they realized the water wouldn't go away. You can ask about it yourself when we're up there."

Daud hummed, relaxing a fraction. They had stayed in this town many times before, and the people were quite hospitable. It would be a shame to lose any of them. "How have you been since we last met."

"Hehe, been wondering when you were going to ask that." With a large but content sigh, she looked to the cloudless skies. "It's been real good. Got The Queen fixed up real quick like after you left."

The Queen was Ral's prized vessel, passed down to her by her father. It was an old fashioned ship, but it was even faster than anything the navy could ever hope to produce. At least, it was when it's sails weren't on fire like last they saw the Pirate King.

She had made a joke out of the name, saying that you simply can't have two queens ruling their seas. Renaming her ship like her father did was an option, but always the humorous one she had kept it. It referred to the days before the Isles were one empire and even Gristol was separated into territories. That was the period of time when each area was lead by a King and Queen, all seemingly set on needlessly ruining the lives of other monarchs and their subjects.

Those were embarrassing times and that's why Ral found it so amusing, even if no one did. Silently mocking the navy and it's Empire in this way was oddly satisfying to her.

"What about your work?" She laughed.

"It's running smoothly as ever! A few hiccups here and there, but we're avoid the navy so it's all good."

There were multiple groups of pirates living around there, Ral's being the biggest. The fleet under her command had stricter rules than the others though. She was basically the one you worked under as a pirate if you didn't like the way things were run in the Empire, but still wanted some semblance of order.

It was organized that each crew got specific orders to what ships and where you could and could not raid. They were also running underground deliveries and trade and other services, like making boat parts and offering protection.

The areas under her control had a multitude of seemingly normal villages without any sort of illegal activity so that when navy men get gusty enough to check out the pirate's lands in hopes of getting rid of the nuisances, they couldn't warrant any sort of arrest. The villages diverted attention away from the real hideouts of the pirates in exchange for a safe place to live away from the Empire's rule, as there was a strict law of no violence towards the townspeople, enforced by loyal pirates under Ral's command who always seem to know about all goings-on in the towns. Also the residents were often hardy people from the tougher areas of the Isles or ex-pirates, so they knew how to handles themselves.

Her tactical way of doing things had helped them all evade the navy, and where all other pirates would just get captured, her little empire kept growing.

"Missed having you bunch at my beck and call..." Her sigh was dramatic. "I had to actually get people to look for someone to get rid of some pests for me." She gave him a nudge and a wink. "None of them were as good as you and your men though. Heh."

"Watch it Ral," From down the path a bit, Isaias called with a grin. "you're inflating our egos! You might not be able to get rid of us if you keep it up!"

"Maybe that's exactly what I want, babe!"

The group continued up the path with high spirits.

\---

The town at the top of the hill had been completely packed with people rushing about, lights and banners everywhere and Ral's personal crew with crates full of illegally obtained booze.

To say the Whalers enjoyed that evening was an understatement.

People had recognized them from when last they saw the Whalers, which was unfortunately during a rival pirate attack, but even before then they were on pretty good terms as Daud was with Ral's "in-crowd". They treated the assassins to a night of Serkonan cooking, high quality drinks, and lots of laughter and song. Whalers were all over the place, drinking all they could get their hands on, running off with bed partners, taking up dancing, stuffing their faces, or just conversing with the townspeople.

It was an amazing night for the Whalers, but Daud thought that he was the one who had gotten the most out of it, because you know what he did?

He secured the right to move into the currently empty beach town. All parties agreed that if they could manage to keep the place looking abandoned to avoid suspicion of patrolling navy ships, the Whalers could stay. It shouldn't be hard since the people who usually come by to check on things already knew about the flooding, making it less likely for them to do a thorough check in the near future.

Also, they were trying to hide about thirty assassins, who constantly avoid being seen, in a space meant for a city of people.

All they really had to worry about was the navy finding their boat, which actually was already covered. The reason why they went to that town in the first place was because there was a secret cove just around the cliff face. Most people couldn't see it unless they were looking, and even less people could control a boat well enough to make it through to the cove. It was the perfect hiding spot for such a large ship, it even had a small tunnel system connecting to the town through the cliff.

So basically, Daud got them their own little Flooded District, sans the freezing cold nights and weepers. It was an unexpected turn of events, but not unwelcome.

For the next three months they went about fixing what the could from the damage the water had made, which was quite extensive with roofs and walls and even smaller buildings completely knocked out.

The neighbors are much more friendly in the new town than they had been in the Flooded District, too. People from the village above kept insisting on giving supplies. The Pirate King had visited often too, most of the time bounty updates, sometimes she just dropped by to say hello. She also sent some of her people to help work on the town or fix up their Whaling vessel.

The Outsider on the other hand barely called on Daud during that time, a swift change from the near incessant bothering he did while they were at sea. He kept up with the pointless chatter though, but he always disappeared before Daud had a chance to bring up the flooding of the town.

Now wasn't that interesting.

Daud kept wondering about this, which had brought him to the balcony of one of their rec-rooms, staring blankly out at sea.

The flooding had thrown so many people out of their home, that much was evident from how over populated the town on the hill was, new building weren't being made fast enough for the increase in people.

Sure, anyone could have stayed in the now flooded town like the Whalers were doing, but half the time the water would prevent them from using conventional ways of leaving their house, as well as putting a huge walk or boat trip between themselves and the other port town. It also wouldn't allow for extended use of electrical equipment, which would ruin the comfort of a home unless you were used to living as such.

It was all too perfect of a set up. If the Outsider really had a hand in the flooding of the town, is it because he wanted the Whalers to move in there? But why would he want Daud there of all places? It didn't seem like a fascinating sort of area. Maybe he would have other motives besides that?

Daud made the mistake of wondering if Corvo had any idea as to the answer to that, since he could very well be interacting with the Outsider as well.

Or was he? If the Whale God was anywhere near as annoying with Corvo as he was with Daud, for the Lord Protector's sake he hoped that it wasn't the case. But knowing the Outsider, he wouldn't leave such an interesting person alone if he could.

With that, Daud completely zoned out.

Sitting just inside the dim room, spread out on the floor or on the couch that had been given to them, were six of Daud's men, all of them staring at their leader as he just kind of lost connection with their world.

"Is he... doing it again." Jeremiah asked.

"I think he is." Placing down a card, Tadeo took a matching ace of diamonds from Stephano. They were playing Go Fish.

Isaias shrugged, ignoring the game in favor of watching Daud's back. "Dunno, he could be just tired or something."

Peering up from his book, William looked between his comrades and the master assassin. It was really hard to tell if he actually was zoned out or just staring out at sea. "Go check."

"No!" Isaias whispered harshly, going into hiding behind the brick wall that was Marcel. "For all we know he could still want to throw me off the balcony!" The larger Whaler rolled his eyes.

"Lemme see," Raising his voice, Marcel tried to catch their leader's attention. "Hey Daud! Are you fucking Ral?"

He was always asked that question by some cheeky Whaler at one point or another when they had come here at previous times, much to Daud's annoyance. Sitting at the edge of their seats they all stared anxiously at Daud's broad shoulders, waiting for his usual "you know the answer to that" eyebrow raise.

Not even a twitch was made at Marcel's comment, the only movement came from the smoke of the cigarette he had.

There was a collective sigh from each Whaler.

Picking up another card, Tadeo shifted. "This is the third time this week."

"He hasn't gotten any better from when we left Dunwall..." Added Jeremiah before he asked if anyone had the five of spades. Nobody had it on hand.

"Maybe we should do something about it?" Stephano suggested as he watched Marcel scan his cards, trying to figure out which one the others had the most possibility of having a match for.

"Like what."

Stephano looked tentative for a moment. "Bring Attano over here?"

There was a loud strangled noise from William's direction, which once again hadn't gotten Daud's attention. "Oh you've got to be shitting me..."

"You do realize," Tadeo pointed out. "that Daud is a spacey mess because that Attano figure is better than all of us."

"Plus he's the Lord Protector, the guy is constantly around the Empress who is constantly around a fucking army of guards!"

"Oh come on William don't get your panties in a twist, only Attano knows about our Void powers. We totally have a one-up on them." Marcel laughed, asking for six of clubs, which Jeremiah had.

He handed over the card, looking at his fellow Whalers. "And they probably wouldn't even be expecting us in the first place."

"Would you rather have him acting like this for the rest of our short lives?" Isaias frowned.

"The element of surprise sure does help in this..." Marcel hummed as Stephano asked for the two of hearts. "Personally I think it sounds like a great plan. 'Specially if it snaps Sir head-in-the-clouds out of it."

"We'd have to do a shit load of planning though." Jeremiah sighed.

"Well I bet if you, me, Steph and Tadeo went we could do it. Maybe Marcel and William too, if you guys want to. Oh, and Tiberius, and Finnian... hm" Isaias looked contemplative.

"Fine. But I hope you all realize this is a rash decision and we're going to die." William frowned, putting down his book. "Steph you go ask for some leave time." Tadeo shared Williams worries about being dragged into this.

He gaped at the other Whaler. "What? Why me?"

"Why not?"

Stephano sighed, not in the mood for an argument. Getting up, he nervously made his way towards Daud, trying not disturb their leader too much before putting a hand on his shoulder and oh fuck he could feel it tensing as he turned around-

But the attack never came.

That was one thing Daud had improved on. By the time they had gotten to Morley he was starting to be able to resist his instinct to immediately defend himself so the Whalers could get his attention without being hurtled out to sea.

Still had to visibly stop himself from reacting when they did that though.

"Sir? We'd like to request..." He looked behind him at the other Whalers. "three weeks of leave?"

Daud gave him a suspicious look. It wasn't unexpected for Whalers ask for time off to go places every once in a while, especially now that they were near a port city that had smaller boats available for them to use, but usually it wasn't really a large group like Stephano was implying.

"We had been on the mission team in the last job, so we figured we deserved it." Stephano added hastily.

"What exactly are you planning on doing?"

"Ah, well we wanna visit someone..." Daud raised an eyebrow, but agreed to it.

Isaias let out a whoop of excitement.

They were off to Dunwall to get their asses kicked and hopefully not die.

None of them saw the eighth man in the room, floating just above the carpet with an inhuman smile on his pale face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set up is a bit different from the one in the kink meme, but i have my reasons (of which you'll hopefully see next chapter?)

A single day of sailing was all it took to reach Dunwall from the island, and the security around the capital was tighter than ever. Still it wasn't too difficult to get in, if you knew the way.

Also the City Watch was still completely oblivious.

After more than a year of being away from this city, it almost felt nostalgic to be able to dodge around the roofs of the old brick buildings. Though, it was much different from last they saw it. No more blockades or weepers meandering about, and finding rats out in the open had actually become difficult.

But they weren't there for reminiscing. They were there for the Lord Protector.

Locating him wasn't a problem. As the personal bodyguard of Empress Emily, he needed to stay close to the young lady, who being the Empress couldn't really escape the swarm of protective guards following her. Now all they had to do is make a plan to actually get a hold of Attano whilst avoiding being caught by prying eyes.

The eight men of the away team had taken up a small space in the sewer system between Dunwall tower and Kaldwin bridge. All over the wall was pieces of paper filled with noted habits of the Lord Protector, where he went, when he was alone. Inklings of plans on how to abduct him set out around the unclean stone walls.

Nobody had agree on any of the currently suggested methods though.

They did, however, decide that three of them should stay there in order to protect the Empress. The guards had already proven many times they're not tough enough to stand up against an actual threat, so leaving her alone without the Lord Protector was ill advised.

Plus both Corvo and Daud would probably be on their asses if she got hurt.

There was still over two weeks until they were expected back, they still had time to make proper plans.

That all got burned up in the Void when a certain Whaler sharp shooter "accidentally" shot their target with a sleeping dart after he left the old boatman he was hanging out with that night.

Corvo hit the ground before he even noticed the dart.

As disappointingly anti-climatic as it was, that made it a whole lot easier since all they had to do was collect the body and get back.

So, they did it. They captured Corvo Attano, master at stealth, the man who beat Daud at his own game. Now, if their theory was correct, they could snap their boss out of nasty habit of spacing out.

There weren't even any casualties.

\---

"What are you doing." Marcel looked up. On the horizon the sun was rising and there were still a few hours between them and the Serkonan islands.

"What does it look like I'm doing." He said, sounding incredulous as he looked back to the unconscious Lord Protector who was using his lap as a pillow.

Stephano snorted. "I think you're making some kind of poor attempt at braiding his hair."

His comrade momentarily stuck out his tongue and retorted, "Well excuse me for not having any hair to practice on."

"Okay, move over I'll show you how to do it." He slid down next to Marcel on the cool metal floor of the small boat. "And take those ones out, they're terrible."

Out of pure boredom one Whaler taught the other how to properly braid together strands of the brown locks. Corvo probably didn't like that, as after the first one was tied off he started fighting unconsciousness.

"Aw shit!"

Fist connected with shoulder in a weak punch as Marcel glared at the panicking Whaler. "You woke him up!"

"Quick, someone pass me a sleeping dart!"

\---

There Daud stood, trying very hard not too look surprised.

He couldn't help it really, after being dragged across town to one of the taller stone buildings by a tittering bunch of deadly assassins.

It was a few of the men who were on leave that had brought this upon Daud, mischievous grins complete with hound puppy-like excitement. Apparently that was contagious because the more Whalers that gathered, the more worked-up and bouncy they got. That had worried him.

Daud was placed in front of one of the still intact doors in the partly broken hallway, Whalers looking jubilant as they scattered aside to let Marcel dramatically swing the door open-

By every single floating whale in the Void of course they would do something this dimwitted.

Yes, his Whalers were indeed acting like overgrown houndpups, but the kind of pups who would drag home a live wolf.

He stood just outside the room, trying to comprehend the situation. The Lord Protector, personal bodyguard to the Empress, had been captured by a handful of his men. The same person who had managed to out-stealth all of them was able to be captured and brought all the way to the Serkonan archipelago without so much as an injury. Yeah this was definitely a surprise.

And his men looked so proud over it. How did they not notice the hostility and tension here.

"Go on, Sir!" With a giddy whisper, Jeremiah gave him a gentle push on the back. "Talk to him!"

He didn't resist, hearing the wooden door shut behind him. Of all the things he thought would happen today, a confrontation with Corvo was not one of them. Actually, it was one of the few things he didn't even want to happen during the rest of his lifetime. He had let Daud live once before, but chances are he wasn't going to do that a second time.

Especially with how he is now, tied up sitting on some couch in a ruined building somewhere in Serkonos. You could not mistake that for anything but being captive.

Daud needed to deal with this quickly, before any of his men got shanked upon the Lord Protector's escape.

"It's been a while, Corvo."

He didn't react. Really, Daud shouldn't have even been expecting him too. The sun-warmed building where they were situated had become like a Tyvian frost had settled over it, just from the sheer ferocity of the man's glare.

Corvo was in his usual deep blue uniform, boots planted firmly on dust blanketed wooden floor. With plain rope, his arms had been tied behind his back. His posture was straight and stiff, but his head was slightly inclined. It gave him a look of pure and understandable hatred.

"I would... like to apologize on the behalf of my men." Daud scrubbed a gloved hand over his jaw, weary of this entire situation. Each step he made towards the Lord Protector, the harder the glare felt. "They did not act by my orders. In all honesty I do not know what had possessed them to bring you here like this..."

Daud, as he cautiously got closer to the man, finally had a chance to examine his state.

It had been a long while since he had seen Corvo, and being tied up aside, he looked...

Absolutely terrible.

It was like someone had thrown an extra twenty years of suffering at the man. His eyes were much more dull, face and posture ragged. If it wasn't for the icy glare, he could probably have even looked lifeless against the shabby white couch.

Corvo may have been cleaned up like a proper man of the Empire, but he looked even worse than he had the last time Daud saw him in person. You know, the time he was poisoned?

Yeah, this was a problem.

Daud stopped in front of the couch.

"What am I doing here then." Corvo snapped, bringing Daud out of his thoughts. He stayed dangerously still, looking up at Daud with narrowed eyes. His worn features were full of resentment. At the same time though, the man looked like he was so fatigued he was going to fall apart at any moment.

There was many different types of stress people had to endure, and apparently for Corvo the stress of rebuilding an empire had the taken the greatest toll. Daud knew about Coldridge, about the trials he had with the loyalists, and even about what had been before the Empire fell to it's knees.

Corvo had withstood each one with grounded feet. What would break most humans only served to fuel his drive to overcome. Yet, after the beginning of what would be considered a more peaceful time, he ended up looking looking like a victim to the fray of too many unseen battles.

It was a possibility that what was destroying him was the stress of the more social aspects of the job he acquired when young Emily gained her throne. The master assassin was not unfamiliar with the sleepless nights that came with too much worry and not enough action. Perhaps some men just could not deal with the horrors of war, while others were suffocating without it.

Daud absolutely hated seeing someone he respected in such horrible condition.

"When was the last time you slept."

Corvo's brows furrowed at the sudden question, but no answer came forth. Daud could almost see his overtired brain working behind those vaguely unfocused eyes to make a plausible reason for him saying that.

His voice rose to something much more commanding, taking time to carefully say each word. "Tell me Corvo- when was the last time you slept."

Where most men would have been cowed at Daud's demeanor, Corvo didn't so much as flinch. His harsh stare at the assassin looming over him was steady as ever.

"When your men knocked me out." He said simply.

Daud's jaw tightened. They stared each other down, neither of them looking away lest they show weakness.

The entire room was tense, even outside the Whalers who were listening in held their breath.

"I suggest that if you ever hope to get those ropes off," The tone was slow and deadly. "you'll answer the question."

Back talk was not something Daud had to face often. People were usually willing to spill their guts for him, since one of the perks of being so well built while sporting a facial scar was that you intimidated the fuck out of most people without even trying. Sometimes they needed to be leaned on a little, but daunting looks almost always did the charm.

"How is that relevant."

It was Daud's turn to keep dangerously silent.

"Your men knocked. Me. Out."

"Unconsciousness doesn't make people look like they're an inch from death."

At least Corvo had the courtesy to look a little surprised. It didn't last long though, seemingly perpetual anger rising back at full force.

"Maybe this would be a more heartfelt conversation if I wasn't tied up."

Daud considered him for a moment.

One hand curled around the upper arm of the Lord Protector, who caught the hint that he should probably stand up with the light pull. Now wasn't that strange, how the commander of an elite group of supernaturally powered assassin's could be so cooperative.

Corvo didn't even try to hide the suspicion in his glare as he watched Daud's hands expertly work down the knots that bound him.

When the last of the rope fell he didn't spare a second before he turned with full force, punch aimed at Daud's throat. Just as expected.

The fist collided with Daud's hand.

Attano's movements were extremely sluggish, fueled only by a scant amount of adrenaline. Daud went to twist his arm into a hold.

But it seems like Corvo had a plans of his own, just sort of slipping out of Daud's grip, ducking to the side and-- fingers brushed his belt.

He was going for Daud's knife.

Fuck.

Even in his state, Attano was a sharp one if manged to notice his hidden weapons.

A strong hand clamped down on the other man's wrist.

In a rush of wind, Corvo landed chest first wood paneled floor with a stifled grunt and a small cloud of dust. Daud's knee was pushing into his lower back.

"Now do you see what terrible condition you're in?" He hissed, leaning down with his grip on restrained arms tightening for emphasis.

Corvo was seething, but he made no move to fight. All of his energy was going into trying to keep breathing.

"You're better than this and you know it. That stunt in the Flooded District had earned you my respect, Attano," Taking hold of the Lord Protector's collar he hauled him back onto his feet. "and now it's just insulting that you keep yourself in such poor condition. You're staying here until further notice." Daud turned a bit to face the door way, grip on Corvo still tight.

"Marcel, I know you're listening. Come escort our Lord Protector to a secure room."

Taking Corvo on as captive was a rather rash decision. But he was slowly killing himself, and once before Corvo had allowed Daud to live completely on whim. Now it was time to return the favor.

Attano was passed off to the larger Whaler who took him firmly by the arms tucked behind his back and lead him back through the door. As they walked off, Corvo gave the master assassin a look that promised pain and vengeance. Too bad the unsaid threat was overshadowed by something Daud hadn't noticed before.

"Are those braids...?"

Marcel dropped his head, trying to hide his chuckling. Corvo looked utterly confused.

Okay, he really was going to need an explanation from his men.

\---

It may be debatable as to the nature of Daud's little obsession, but everyone knew the cause of it was Corvo Attano. They all agreed that maybe, if they put the two of them together, their leader could get whatever it was off his chest and the Whalers wouldn't have to be afraid of being punched out by an unfocused Daud.

Things didn't work out that way.

To them, fighting was a much better option than sorting out issues verbally.

At least Daud decided to keep Corvo in the town with them, even if it was just for the Lord Protector's health. It meant that they still had a chance to straighten things out, and all their hard work didn't completely go to waste.

"We shot him with a sleeping dart. It was pretty cool, Sir."

They were on one of the main floors of one of the houses of the higher parts of town. There were a few crates scattered about the room, but it was noticeably empty, and the only light source was a single window close to the low ceiling. A perfect place for an interrogation.

All of the five men who had come back from the trip to the capital were lined up against the cold wall for questioning. The ordeal wasn't exactly hostile or anything, but Daud was not in the mood for games.

"I'm not asking how you got him, Jeremiah, I'm asking why." Pacing back and forth as he tried to draw answers out of his surprisingly reluctant Whalers. There was a near unnoticeable twitch in the tense line of his shoulders.

"Sir, for the last year you've been so unlike yourself because of him." William tried to rationalize. "Maybe if you had a chance to talk we figured you'd well... stop doing that thing with the space-outs..." Perhaps it wasn't that they were reluctant, maybe their answers simply weren't satisfactory to Daud.

He glared at William's guilty smile. They were lucky Corvo hadn't been working at full capacity or else they probably would be in Coldridge right now. Or dead.

"That's it? You kidnap one of the few men who our more dangerous than ourselves," Shutting his eyes tight Daud pinched the bridge of his nose. Already he could feel the beginnings of a headache forming. "Leaving the Empress completely unguarded.

"And now three of your comrades are missing!" He finished with a wave of his arm.

"Oh, uh," Marcel made a vague hand gesture. "those two things are actually connected..."

"Yeah, we decided it'd be best to leave Tiberius, Isaias and Finnian there to protect Lady Kaldwin, Sir."

Some of the worry slipped off Daud's shoulders. At least they weren't completely daft. But with the state Corvo was in, would it really make a difference in Emily's safety if they had left her alone or not?

The Lord Protector seemed so overworked it was shocking that he hadn't been forced on leave yet. Was that how dire their situation was in Dunwall? Or was Corvo that dedicated he refused to rest. Asking him was always an option, but the odds of getting an answer was slim to none. The guy really hated the lot of them, and rightfully so.

He dismissed his Whalers, all of them looking relieved to finally be allowed out of the muggy "interrogation room". Daud stayed though, he still needed to figure out what he was going to do with Corvo.

Sending the man back to Dunwall and not have to deal with all this nonsense was an option, but the Lord Protector would probably just get back to what he was doing before and would end up killing himself. That honestly bothered Daud in the strangest way. Finding out someone you respected so much was basically killing himself was a pretty big disappointment.

Especially since at the rate he was going, Corvo was going to fail at the worst possible time. If someone were to attack Empress Emily while he was in this state, the both of them would end up a bloody mess on the floor. No, Daud could not stand by and watch that happen. He owed it to both Corvo and the young Empress.

But what about when Corvo does recover? Surely then he would take his revenge for Jessamine, and as welcomed that idea was at one point in time Daud found himself preferring the idea of staying alive to lead his Whalers. They needed him.

Daud felt cool breeze of air at his back, like what you'd feel while sailing in the Northern Isles. All gray clouds, angry sea, and wicked snow. "You didn't like your gift?" Icy lips whispered the words so close to Daud's ear he could feel each movement. The cool sensation made him tense again, but he knew exactly who it was.

"Outsider." The master assassin stood completely still. "What did you do to my men."

His words were slow as it started to sounds more distant, like he was backing away. "I did nothing."

The room was distorting slightly in the corners of his vision. It started to look as if he was viewing the room around him in the murky ocean depths, blocking out the light of the small window. Dim blue and purple lights flickered and whirled nowhere and everywhere, dancing with the black wisps of the Void.

"Your men made their own decision."

The voice moved around the room in ways that were not possible and Daud didn't even try to track it. Laws of this planet do not apply to omnipotent entities.

"Somehow I don't quite believe that." There was something akin to a hum, whale song hidden low within sounds. Relaxed but all consuming, it was deep enough he could feel it in his core.

"There are those who say my presence allows for a greater confidence than what would normally be allowed." A sensation like sticking your hand under a cool stream of water spread up from the Outsider's mark on his left hand.

That made him turn, "You appeared to them?" He tried to pinpoint the familiar pale floating figure to no avail. The black swirls kept calmly floating along the poorly lit space.

"I merely watched as they chose their path." The master assassin let out a breath in annoyance but didn't say anything. The Outsider never was all that interested in his mens actions before. What makes now so different?

"Be careful, Daud, your choices in the coming days will affect much more than just your men." With that, everything melted away, leaving a plain stone room and nothing to show for the supernatural conversation that had just taken place.

This was the first time the Outsider had ever interacted with him away from the shrine while he was still awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> daud probably wouldn't enjoy seeing someone he respects being so careless about their own health. i kinda think it would hurt his pride.  
> plus with the conscience corvo and jess may have unintentionally helped him develop 'for his own health' isnt a completely terrible motive for keeping the lord protector there  
> or at least that's what i hope


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today i present to you all an ~ao3 exclusive chapter~ because i was mad at myself for not expanding on this before  
> i just hope this won't throw the story off or anything hn
> 
> theres at least one more chapter like this, ill probably have it up between today and thursday depending on if my flu wants to throw another migraine at me

Corvo stared from the middle of the room as the wooden door was slammed shut.

The assassin, or the 'Whalers' he recalled, brought him to his new prison and decided they needed to do absolutely nothing to keep him confined. No guards or chains or boarded entrances to prevent escape, they didn't even place him in part of an old factory vat. You would think after last time they would had bumped the security up, but no. He was just dumped in some fairly normal looking room and left there.

It was actually pretty large in comparison to the last place they had him in, and even the cell Coldridge had given him, but Corvo found he really couldn't care less right then. He was looking for a means of escape and they just made it a whole lot easier on him.

Just a glance and Corvo already knew he could leave through the large window across from the door. It didn't have a lock on it and it was big enough for him to slip through. Option two would be just going through the front door.

Both had their problems though. Front door would be much too obvious, and he would stumble upon a Whaler faster than he could make it out of the building. The window would be difficult to make a fast getaway down, knowing that he was at least four floors up and would have to climb it the entire way.

Although, he could always use Blink again...

No, no that's not a good idea. Corvo didn't really want to get in the habit of using the Outsider's powers again. It was hard enough to stop the first time.

Attached to the main one he was standing there were two other rooms in there, a third if you included the boarded up space on the wall. It looked too sturdy to break without drawing attention and was probably just a closet anyways, so Corvo went on checking the other small rooms for possible escape routes.

A kitchen, partly gutted of a stove any anything else you could weaponize. It did have cupboards, a sink and a table set that matched the desk in the main room. Nothing really to help him there, seeing as a quick survey by swinging open cupboard doors and drawers showed the entire place was empty save a few piles of sand and an empty tin can. There might have been a window in there but Corvo couldn't even hope to fit more than his head through it.

The bathroom was no better, although it looked like it was fully functional. How kind of them.

Actually, this wasn't at all what he expected for these assassins.

Corvo had first woken up here by the aid of the warm sunshine at his back and uncomfortable position slung over someone's broad shoulder. It was unnerving to be in cool, cloudy nighttime Dunwall and wake up in a sunny place on a coast with sweet birdsong in the distance.

Realizing who exactly captured him didn't help it much. With their whaling uniforms and tattoos that resembled the one on his own left hand it wasn't at all hard to guess who they were. Even from his position.

Feigning unconsciousness as they made their way down a cobble stone street, he had tried to memorize the path they took. It was a difficult task as his head had felt fuzzy.

How they got him, Corvo didn't even want to try to figure out at this point. All that mattered is why is he here, what are they planning, and how he was going to get back.

This could be some sort of revenge for slipping past them last time. Or a plot to get rid of the Empress again, which was what Corvo feared most. He knew these guys could be a competent bunch of assassins, but if the Overseer corpse that was in the space next to his in the Flooded District said anything, they were also extremely cruel.

After he saw that corpse he actually had found himself thankful that out of everything these men did they didn't draw out Jessamine's death any further. Thinking about what had happened that day stirred up a pain in him, as well as a fury that he had to learn to calm down from by telling himself it could have been much worse. Who knows what they might have done if they had the chance. He was still worried about Emily though, as she never really spoke of what happened before they sent her to the Golden Cat. Hopefully her silence wasn't because the event was too traumatizing.

Over the last year, Corvo had found himself distantly hoping Daud and his men had turned over a new leaf. With what Daud said in the Camber of Commerce, he even thought it could actually be a possibility, too. Corvo wanted to believe the guilt the assassin had proclaimed had been truly there. It would mean that Daud really grew a conscience.

Guess he was grossly wrong. Daud had even had the nerve to tell him when they met that his being stolen away from Emily was 'for his own health'. How could anyone be under the impression that taking him away from the girl he was to protector would be good for his health?

But the rational part of the Lord Protector told him this wasn't the time to be thinking about that. He really did have an Empress to get back to.

Just as he thought, the window opened without so much as a squeak, warm sea air flowing in from outside. The buildings out there were tall and definitely of Serkonan architecture, albeit weather torn. They had lots of balconies and flat roofs as well as those had those makeshift walkways between broken buildings that resembled the Flooded District. They were much better built this time around though.

From there Corvo could see at least three spots that would be easy to simply Blink to-

No, he will not revert back into that. Climbing houses like these without supernatural powers was a breeze, he used to do it all the time as a kid.

Of course he never was imprisoned by a bunch of supernatural assassins as a kid so maybe...

Nope, he's climbing it.

There was a clear path to a flat roof just a little ways to the right of the window that he could make easy enough. Though he would need to be climbing down for part of it.

Slipping through the window, he dropped down to grasp a decorative siding that ran from one end of the house to the other. It held up his weight well enough. No noticeable cracks or anything, so far so good.

He made his way towards the roof, sun beating down on his back. Sure, in the daylight this wasn't the most stealthy way of doing things, but it seemed to be working, as no one had intervened yet. Sunshine hadn't really affected his performance the last time he was escaping from these guys anyways.

His hand were getting a rather sweaty though. Maybe taking off the gloves beforehand would have been a good idea. They were tight custom fit gloves, made to have good grip for whatever activities he might be forced to do in the presence of someone who would call Corvo out for the occultist looking tattoo on his hand.

Luckily in Dunwall it was cool enough to wear them all year around. Unluckily, that wasn't the case out here.

Biting the tip of the glove while keeping a firm hold on the siding with his other hand, he pulled one off followed by the other. It was actually surprisingly difficult to keep himself up. He remembered he used to be able to hang from a wall with one hand far longer without his arm starting to shake from the weight.

No matter, he was getting older things like this happen. It definitely wasn't because he was in poor health. How could he be? The last year he's been getting the Royal treatment with good food and a warm bed, there's no way he could be worse than he had been after Coldridge.

Both gloves now hanging by a fingertip from his mouth, Corvo made his way closer to the lower building. His progress was slow and careful, trying to find footing and keep a steady grip. The siding wouldn't have that though.

With a small crack and a jerk, Corvo's eyes widened as he found himself slipping towards the ground.

A bit of a twist to the right and he managed to grab hold of a wooden windowsill before he even made it a story closer to the ground, but his gloves weren't as fortunate. They kept descending until he heard the light flop of fine leather meeting stone. Yeah, he was not going to go retrieve those at this point.

He had to keep moving across the building wall before anyone noticed him. Though the blue of the Lord Protector's uniform should stand out pretty starkly against the warm creamy colours of the buildings in the afternoon sun, no one seems to have taken a notice to him. The fact that there were no crossbow bolts being shot at him gave that away.

There were a few dents and cracks along with the decorative stone pieces attached to the walls that were good holdings at least, making the climb a bit easier. Frustratingly enough this started to really hurt his hands, probably due to the lack of hard work over the last year. Corvo had found that he had neither the time nor the energy to deal with both the workings of the Empire and keeping up his physical exercise with the same amount of vigor he once had.

Still could beat any guards that wanted to spar with him without trouble, so he really should be fine.

No noise was made as he stepped onto the roof next him. Piero and Sokolov had insisted they keep making upgraded equipment under the reasons that they needed to have extra projects to use as a break from the larger work the Empire required of them.

Now how could anyone say no to two pleading (or as pleading as their egos would allow) natural philosophers? Especially when they kept forcefully taking his equipment and replacing it with their own designs.

He could be glad that they didn't go into any overly complicated designs like flashy 'electropowered boots' or anything, probably because Piero was fielding most of it. The younger philosopher as insisted it was of the utmost importance that Corvo had the latest technology for his equipment. Sokolov just went along with it.

Right now, Corvo was relieved to be wearing their upgraded boots as the red tiles beneath his feet didn't so much as clang together as he snuck his way across the roof.

Carefully checking his surroundings again, Corvo tried to map out what path would he least likely to be caught on. The only other building accessible from that point loomed over the houses between. It would take a great deal of effort to climb up it, but at the top level there was a bridge across the deep crevasse where the street was. A few towers stood out in the distance behind the shorter buildings surrounding the area, but he still couldn't see much past them.

He didn't know too much about the Whalers, like how many there were or where exactly they would be, but he figured if he could make it a few blocks out there he could make a clean getaway.

"Wow, it's not even sunset and you're already trying to get out. Impressive."

A Whaler? When did he...?

Corvo whipped around, hand groping at his side for a sword that was not there. Thinking about it later, he had to admit the reaction was much slower than what was preferable.

The Whaler was a big fellow, pleasant smile, no weapon drawn. Keeping silent, face carefully void of emotion, Corvo waited for the assassin to make a move. The two of them kept going in a stare down, but to his surprise the Whaler didn't so much as move, opting to stay with his relaxed demeanor.

So why wasn't he attacking?

Honestly, he hoped the guy didn't think Corvo would actually come quietly.

The Lord Protector dashed in the opposite direction, ignoring the shout of protest from Daud's lackey. A quick bound and he landed hard on the stone railing at the edge of the roof, barely managing not to slip off the side. Determined to lose the man, he kept running, putting all his force into jumping up to grab the ledge of another window, smacking a hand flat against the pane of glass and pushed up-

 _Thank the Outsider_ it actually opened.

Making sure not to have his belt caught on the decorative parts sticking out of the window frame he scrambled inside, falling face first onto a worn green carpet in a cloud of dust. Damn he was graceful. Surprisingly out of breath too.

Without any time to spare Corvo forced himself up despite the coughing spell from the dust and raced out the only door in the room, narrowly dodging randomly placed furniture in the large hall way. Stairs. He was looking for Stairs. If they went up, he can climb out and use the bridge he had seen, if they went down, he was running through the streets.

Frantically opening each door he happened upon, slipping past piles of furniture and utterly destroyed pieces of somethings in the dark corridors. The only lights came from what seeped through the boards over the windows, or the occasional uncovered one. Most of the rooms looked like storage of some kind, with materials like metal sheets lying against walls and piles of wood and other stuff. Maybe this was just a place to put all the wreckage. It looked as if a storm personally rolled through each room just like it had back in the Flooded District. Daud really liked the whole 'Apocalyptic Chic'.

Bingo.

The stair case had a blockade going up, forcing Corvo to take the downward route. He could hear small rats scurrying out of his way as he leaped down the stairs.

Down one floor, two floors, three-

Something caught on his collar, putting a halt to his running and momentarily choking him. He had to steady himself, as whatever caught him had a secure hold on his coat. If it hadn't been a top quality Lord Protector's uniform he was wearing, Corvo was sure something would have gotten torn there.

"Sorry Attano, can't let you do that."

Why yes, he should have been expecting it to be the hand of a Whaler giving his coat the death grip he couldn't escape with the force of his running. Corvo closed his eyes, letting out a silent curse more akin to a huff. How could he have not been more careful about what was around the corner.

He didn't even try to retaliate at this point, the Whaler already had a tight arm around his chest. The position was vulnerable and if he tried anything he would probably end up with a broken or sliced open neck, and what would that spell for Emily if he couldn't get back to her? Breaking free at this point wouldn't matter anyways, since this building was a maze of hallways and piles of junk.

Wasted the best chance of escape by going in here.

"You're... not going to fight?"

Nor will he answer your question. Corvo kept silently glaring at the peeling paint of the wall across from them in the dark house, feeling the sturdy font of the Whaler tense, waiting to subdue an attack.

If these assassin's had any brains at all, he knew he was headed straight for a higher security cell, probably including rusted metal bars and a rats nest. It would definitely be harder to sneak out of. He might have to stoop to using those supernatural powers he was given, but he will still try to avoid using them as much as possible.

Corvo wanted to go back to Emily without having to feel like he needed to use Blink for everything.

There was an abrupt change in scenery, the Whaler finally taking his silence as an affirmative to move on and-

_Outsider's eyes_

It felt like someone had swung a lamp at the back of his head in a fit of vengeance. Already he was feeling nauseous and reeling from the dizziness that he tried not to convey to his captor. It was like getting thrown out spinning into a frigid open sea full of hard hitting waves and even harder chunks of ice, but at the same time there was the a strange familiar feeling to it. Like dropping into nothingness before snapping back to reality.

That-

That was their version of a Blink, wasn't it.

And he was going to have to keep enduring it until they got to whatever holding cell he was going in this time.

By the Void, it's so not his fault if he vomits on someone


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL THEN that didn't go according to schedule;; my deepest apologies  
> but the good new is i can finally concentrate again so theres that

If Corvo were more coherent, he would have been surprised to find that instead of some rusted old cage he'd been sent straight back to same living space as before. However, that was _if_ he was thinking straight. At that point the Lord Protector was just trying not to get sick all over the floor, stumbling into the bathroom once the Whaler disappeared.

Their version of Blink was so shockingly different from his own. Sure, many months had passed since forcing himself to stop relying on the Void powers, but such surreal feelings like that wasn't easily forgotten.

The only thing Corvo found he could compare it to was switching roles while dancing. He knew the motions, but it was such a radical change from what he was used to that adapting the steps without error became impossible. Add in some rapid tides and ice blocks to knock your brain around and you're left with the exact reeling sensation he had after getting rung through the Whaler's mode of quick transportation.

But why was it like that? Was it because he hadn't done anything like it in so long, or was theirs just that different? It was a possibility that their powers not being gifted directly from the Outsider had something to do with it or maybe-

Wait, actually he didn't care all that much. This nausea will only serve as motivation to try harder to avoid being caught next time.

Corvo sat on the floor of the bathroom for who knows how long, leaning against the wall and waiting until moving didn't make his already empty stomach clench viciously. By the time he figured he could walk in a straight line again, he was too exhausted to make another try at freedom. It was still only mid-afternoon but with the way he was it would be a fatal error to try to sneak out now. Opting instead for sleep he wandered out the bathroom and flopped face down onto the simple bed provided, one leg still hanging off the side.

Although it was old, it smelled much cleaner than he would have expected. Like it was actually meant to be slept on, as opposed to the rat infested mattresses he found in the old Flooded District.

Eyelids heavy, his thoughts wandered off to the welfare of young Empress Emily before drifting into a light sleep.

\---

Corvo woke up to the subtle squeak of metal door hinges. In childhood he had learned quickly that slipping back into consciousness was best done without anybody noticing, a habit which he thankfully kept up. Today it gave him a chance recall where he was and just what had happened before he retired.

So the trepid footsteps he was hearing were most likely from one of Daud's men.

Under the cover of the pillow his fists clenched.

The intruder stayed on the other side of the room, as far as possible from the Lord Protector who tracked his progress while feigning sleep. They made no movement towards him, setting something down with a faint klink before scurrying right back out. None too gently the door slammed shut. Very stealthy work there mate, Daud would be proud.

It fell completely silent again. Corvo waited a long moment before tilting his head to the side ever so discreetly to check the room. Who knows, there still could be someone in there with him.

Not much time had passed since he had fallen asleep it seemed, the light from the window washed the room in the deep orange of a late sunset. The room was no different from what he remembered of it, except that atop the modest desk sat a tray. From his guess that would be dinner.

It took a little bit of effort, but he managed to force himself to roll over and up into at sitting position. He didn't feel too rested, and his nausea had been replaced with hunger. Looks like they brought it at the right time then.

As he stretched his arms and back, the irrational parts of his brain screamed that there was no way food given to him by Daud's men was not poisoned. However if they really wanted to kill him they would have done it by now. These Whalers made their money off of taking people's lives, they'd be sick enough to prefer not to let those who previously outsmarted them off easy with some simple and quick intestinal melting.

Although when he and Daud met, the guy didn't seem too intent on shoving a cleaver through his throat. He stated his intentions were quite the opposite even.

But how can he tell that this was really the truth.

They could be sneaking something else into the food. Something far worse that would that would push him slowly into a painful sort of madness, making him beg for the sweet release of death as Daud and his Whaler's watch on in satisfaction at his agonizingly slow end.

But there was only a slim chance of happening, and what other option did he have? Starve? With past experience, Corvo knew escaping on an empty stomach was a terrible idea.

With a sigh he lifted himself off the bed, curious to see what concoction he had been served in his imprisoned state.

It was hard to tell in the dimming orange light but the food seemed like it was, to his surprise, absolutely normal.

Okay he needed a better look at this.

He'd seen a light switch somewhere near the door at one point. Groping around until the room was flooded with an artificial light, proving they indeed had electricity here, he went back to see if his suspicions were true.

It was set up on a wooden tray, complete with a knife, fork and even a flask of presumably water. Laid neatly on the plate were slices of meat, cheese and what looked and smelled like freshly baked bread. On the side was an array of colourful cooked vegetables, and passing a cautious hand over showed that it was all still radiating heat.

The smell alone made his mouth water. This was much better than anything he was served in Coldridge, and for that he couldn't withhold a disbelieving huff.

Corvo didn't know what to make of Daud. For mere coins the man had taken away the single woman he had ever cared so deeply for, which is something he knew he could never forgive him for. Jessamine was his life, his sole purpose in this world and this assassin for hire had been the very one to make him fail her. He death still sometimes enraged Corvo to the point of having to physically violent to get the anger to ebb. But he still had Emily, her legacy, to protect. She was the reason he could keep going, she gave him a purpose in life after his first failure.

Without Emily he probably would have died in Coldridge before they could execute him.

But even with his action ruining Corvo's life so thoroughly Daud was only a hired to do it, and then there were his words in the Camber of Commerce. Jess had been a huge believer in change, and if Daud changed for the better he knew she wouldn't have held his mistakes against him. She probably would have said something about how it would be much more preferable than having them continue on with a power high. She had always been a strange combination of optimistic and realistic-

Corvo blinked at the blurred orange shapes of his room, and it took a moment before he understood that it was from the buildup of moisture in his eyes. Perhaps thinking about such an emotional topic on an empty stomach wasn't such a great idea.

Swiping his sleeve over his eyes more to ground himself than to wipe away potential tears, he pulled out the chair a little so he could hop up to sit on the desk with his feet resting on the seat. Mulling over his next breakout would be a less dangerous topic.

Bringing the tray onto lay on his lap he started shoveling down the much needed warm meal.

So, what went wrong on his last attempt? Going into that building was one thing, but how had he been spotted by that guy? There were no Whalers on the roofs that he could see...

The windows. He forgot to check to see if they were patrolling from the inside.

Corvo slumped over with a small groan at how painfully amateur that mistake was.

Next time he checks that before climbing out. Also, he'll go straight down and run through the streets, maybe pick up his gloves while he's at it.

Yes, this is a brilliant plan.

He let his mind wander back to Emily. By this time she's probably finished dinner and is going off to her study to work. There was no way to tell exactly how long he had been out when he was brought here, but he does remember the last he saw of Dunwall was while he was parting with Samuel after an evening chatting at the pub.

He had woken up in the afternoon while the Whalers were carrying him. It was probably only a day he was gone, but it was still possible they had him out for longer.

Emily is probably worried, but he hopes she knows to keep calm and not send a search party for him. She was still so young an inexperienced though, maybe she will call a search and alert the entire Empire of his missing status which could very well create more problems for her to deal with on top of everything- he hopes it doesn't come to that.

She can be an amazing leader, but he doesn't know if she will react properly in a situation like this yet.

However there's nothing he can do about this until he's back in Dunwall, so first priority is as such. 

With his plate cleared he was pretty much ready for another escape attempt.

Leaving the dishes on the desk the Lord Protector crouched down next to the worn windowsill. From his position there he could see no movement. All the lights in the windows were out, and to Corvo's satisfaction further inspection showed he could still see no movement from any of the visible opens in the buildings.

The last of the suns rays were hidden by the time he slide out the window. Gripping the side of the building was a little easier and his progress was much faster, probably with help from his full stomach. Still, he was careful making his way down. Every now and again he stopped to make sure he hasn't been spotted.

Corvo almost felt giddy when boots met cobblestone with no signs of those assassins. He had to keep it stealthy though, crouch low and make no noise when going down the street towards what he thought the sound of crashing of waves were coming from. It was also the direction which his gloves had been dropped.

A strange rustle of fabric caught his attention.

Barely catching the blur of movement Corvo ducked to the right, missing a Whaler's tackle and making them crash into the street.

Well, more like making him roll into a heap of limbs with a dazed look that should not be on any sort of dignified assassin. A light jeering from a little ways away broke Corvo out of staring and to see three more headed their way. Four of them. He going to have to lose four damned Whalers.

Corvo took off at full sprint.

With his heart pounding in his chest he raced down the moonlit street, driving his legs to move as fast as they could possibly carry him to get away from those way-too-joyful pursuers.

Something in the back of his mind marveled at how even at running speed Piero's boots hardly made a sound against the uneven stone road. At least until he sea water.

This really was a sunnier Flooded District all their own. With quick shoulder check to see the Whalers progress, he still had some distance between them, Corvo mustered up the as much energy as he could and ran for it. Each splashing step echoed between the the buildings until it was deep enough that he could make a shallow dive in.

Almost soundlessly he entered into the dark ocean water that was flooding the town streets. He doubts they would try to follow him under there, and the night surely didn't provide enough light for them to track him as he swam in fluid motions close to the underwater road. Maybe this time things will work in his favor.

Breaking through the surface of the water just out of reach of the moonlight to take in deep quiet breathes, Corvo took a moment to scan once more for his pursuers. The water only moved with the waves, but up on the roofs were the familiar black shapes of patrolling Whalers. One of them had a shake in their shoulders that look like they were still laughing. Damn.

Carefully sucking in another breath, he went back to the depths of the flooded street. Light still filtered through the clear ocean water, painting the expanse between the buildings shades of deep blue like he had never seen swimming in Dunwall. It made good camouflage for the Lord Protector.

Everything was still apart from what little light spread across the road or the occasional drifting bit of seaweed that came in with the tide.

The farther out he went, the more desolated the town was. Entire buildings were destroyed, while others had so many holes they resembled one of the cheeses the chefs liked giving to Emily in her sandwiches. There was more sea growth down here with the occasional barnacle cluster or sea moss sticking to the bases of buildings.

A shadow moved in the corner of Corvo's vision. It was too quick to see, but it sure wasn't small like a floating piece of drift wood. The cold chill of dread told him that he really should be getting out of the water now.

There it was again, swooping behind a partly desecrated wall. The thing was long and huge, moving quietly through the water in long fluid motions, just far enough to be a silhouette in the distance. He swore he saw a large row of teeth catching light.

This was no hagfish.

Okay, now he was extremely tempted to use Blink, if only to get out of there as fast as possible. Corvo had to force himself to stay calm as not to waste the breath he was holding.

Again the shadow slid between houses, this time to his left. It was creeping closer. If this thing was circling him, he realized in dismay, sudden movements were not the best idea. Not when he was unarmed and it was twice his size.

As slowly as he could Corvo floated to the surface, eye darting around to try and keep track of this monster. He was almost struggling for air though, and knew he might have to resort to Outsider's tricks to get out of this one.

The dark shadow slowly turned towards him in the middle of the flooded road.

It was looking right at him, mouth agape in what would have been some kind of toothy hiss. Fins flared and Corvo worried about the coil to it's lean body.

He was about to get charged.

Quicker than eyes could properly track it was on him in a flash of dangerous shining teeth and a spike of the Lord Protector's own panic.

Out of pure instinct he pulled his left hand into a fist, and he felt himself appear in a flash of light and a desperate gasp for air a little ways above the water. His body crashed again into the cool liquid, sinking below the surface. He could see through the bubbles the long water shined body of the fish breaching the water in a wide arch. Even before his head made it back out of the water Corvo could hear the jaw clamping shut with an audible snap.

The icy hand of fear gripped at his chest; that had been aimed right at him.

Under the surface there was a glint of dark skin and by the Void is was turning around right back at him. Not with the same force as last time, but those jaws could do damage at any speed.

Corvo kicked out to avoid the beast, as he felt it start to pass him he grabbed the fish right behind the front fins stopping the movement and dragging it down with sad splash.

The beast hissed wildly as it fell. Trashing about the surface of the water, strong tail throwing water every which way in a loud attempt to free itself of the man clinging hard to it's slim form. But the Lord Protector wasn't exactly having an easy time, only thing keeping him from slipping off the sleek battle marred monster was the sheer strength of his hold. He grit his teeth. Each sharp movement dunked him underwater before bringing him straight back up in a gasp.

Fingernails dug deep into the aquatic beast's skin like it would help him get a better hold on the slick skin. With no weapons to drive this thing to a stop, the only thing he could think of doing is jabbing it in the gills during one of the weaker thrashes. It might stun it enough to make a get away.

As soon as he went for the jab, right as they breached the water once again, Corvo's one arm couldn't keep hold and he was thrown off it. The air was knocked out of his lungs as his back smashed into a brick wall, tumbling back into the ocean water with a large splash. He could hear the quick beats of the monster's tail as it made for him.

A hand came out of nowhere, grabbed his arm, and thank the Outsider he found himself sprawled out over the safety of the rooftops in a wet pile. Nausea hit him immediately, but the intense burn of his lungs and throat over powered it. In a fit of coughing he rolled himself over, propped up on his forearm and desperately tried to expel the ocean water that had filled his lungs. He must have breathed it in after that last fall.

Straining to breathe in deep rasping gasps, Corvo finally pulled himself up into a kneeling position, hand clutching his throat. It was raw and his entire mouth tastes of sea water.

His limb tingled with aftereffects of an adrenaline rush, but he felt entirely too weak to try and make another break for it as his breathing took on a less waterlogged sound.

"Wow, you sure showed that fish not to tango with ya," one of the Whalers chuckled which only got to Corvo scowl at him through his soaking wet hair. Another assassin elbowed him painfully in the stomach making him grunt.

"Are you going to be alright man?" From his left a Whaler was crouching, worry evident on his unmasked face. By the wet state of his clothes he had been the one to pull him out of the beast's reach. Corvo looked back over the water he had just been in and gave a tight nod; he wouldn't have come out of that in one piece if it wasn't for this man's efforts. His shoulder slumped.

"Thank you," Corvo mumbled, "for the help."

He could practically hear the smile in his voice as the Whaler relayed how he was glad the thing didn't maim him, giving the Lord Protector a strong slap on the back that skewed his balance.

"But, uh, next time you try to escape, don't leave the lights on," he said, incredulous. The Lord Protector gave the now standing Whaler a look of confusion. "It kinda attracts attention in these parts."

Corvo lips thinned. Dammit.

"Yeah, probably wanna keep them off too," another Whaler added behind him. "At least during high tide. We don't know where the wires all go, so just as a precaution..."

"Or else you could become fried Attano the next time you take a swim," snickered the assassin holding his probably now bruising gut.

"I bet there's still some extra lanterns hidden 'round here. He could use those."

"Good idea. We could nab some from Bentley's room too if there's none in storage," he turned back to the Lord Protector with a shrug. "We'll bring back and give you something to light you room with later, that sound good?" They didn't even wait for an answer before he placed a hand on Corvo's shoulder and he was forced through an even longer round of 'don't throw up on the assassins'.

Once during their trip he was able to look back.

Turns out the street he had taken was just one large downhill curve, and honestly he didn't make it that far. Corvo had to suppress a groan as he sat against the bathroom wall for the second time that day.

\---

Only about half an hour passed after Corvo deemed himself feeling steady enough to try escaping again. This time his plan was to make use of the back alleyways, avoid the water and houses and not succumb to the temptation of using Blink again. Also keep the lights off.

Corvo didn't even make it down the first building when and arm shot out of a window, grabbing his wrist and transporting him straight back into his room.

Yeah, he's going to need a new tactic. At least the nausea wasn't as bad that time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter dealing solely with corvos escaping and we'll bring daud back into the picture  
> hopefully ill have it up soon, theres just some more tinkering i want to do before i can post it


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i rewrote this chapter twice before deciding the original copy was the best ha

Tapping his foot impatiently against the bed, Corvo sat thinking out his next move. He'd been doing that for an hour since his last little adventure that we shall not talk about. He needed a new strategy.

The front door was the best option so far, but there would probably be some lock picking involved. After what happened in Dunwall, Corvo may have taken it up as a casual hobby. Though he would need a pin of some sort, which he sorely doubts a bunch of assassins would leave carelessly in a prisoner's room.

It couldn't hurt to see how securely the it was shut though. He could even try knocking it down. Everything else in this hide out of a town seemed to be close to falling apart anyways, and it'd be a good alternative to the hassle of lock picking. Also a broken door would inconvenience the Whalers at least a little.

Outside his own comfy cell he could hear muffled conversation. It rose sometimes, people speaking above others and occasionally a boisterous bout of laughter or groans erupted from the other side of the wall. He waited for another swell in the Whaler's conversation before turning the handle and pulling.

Nothing stopped the door from swinging open. Corvo actually found himself vaguely offended by how utterly easy that was.

Well, their oversight can work to his gain.

Or maybe it wouldn't since he had just opened the door to a room full of people who were currently trying to keep him from escaping. But the point sort of slipped his mind.

"You people actually didn't lock it..." Corvo's word tumbled off his tongue in an annoyed sort of disbelief, which quickly got redirected.

Sitting in a circle of the main lobby were six or seven Whalers, each with a fan of playing cards. All their attention was drawn to the Lord protector who was visibly taken aback.

Clothes were strewn about the room, hanging from the odd chair or ceiling light, vapor masks in a pile to the side. The men were all in various states of undress. One man still had his mask on, however he was missing both boots and his pants, others went without gloves and jackets, or completely shirtless in a similar fashion. Someone was even stripped right down to his skivvies.

Strip poker. They were playing _strip poker_ just outside his room.

And they were looking at him like _he_ was the crazy one.

A Whaler clad in only pants and a old white undershirt piped up, "The locks broken."

Corvo just turned on his heel and escorted himself back into his room without any further discussion, closing the door tightly behind him.

\---

In an attempt to forget what he had seen, Corvo immediately tried escaping through the night darkened window. This time he decided climbing to the roof was a better option. It didn't take long to be caught during while trying to out-climb the teleporting assassins.

He finally admit to himself that if he was going to get past these guys, he needed to use the Outsider's abilities.

With a heavy frown Corvo paced the length of the room. Just as promised he had come back to lanterns decorating his room, covering it with a soft light. They were each made of a bronze metal, a small lick of a flame visible through the glass windows that took up most of the rather plain object.

Maybe he could use these.

Stopping the agitated loop he scooped one off the desk, turning the cylindrical object over in his hand. Extinguishing the fire with a quick breath he figured it was cool enough to handle, not to mention heavy enough for what he had in mind. He hid the thin lantern the best he could behind his sleeve and left through the front door.

Only two Whalers were in the lobby this time. Neither so much as tensed at him, one of them even gave Corvo a wave with from his place leaning against one of the huge windows.

"Sorry buddy, no strip poker this time," the assassin gave a amused smile, tearing a piece off of a half finished loaf of bread he was holding. The Lord Protector stayed deadly still, waiting.

From his perch on a couch that looked suspiciously like a mattress folded at a ninety degree angle, the second Whaler in the room looked sharply at his companion. The expectant look and tapping finger on the book laying on his lap was apparently enough to demand and explanation. The man with the food gave a cheery laugh.

"Oh yeah you weren't there, were you?" Corvo looked between the two of them. They seem strangely uninterested in him. "It was the funniest thing! This guy walked right into our game- like we were halfway through it when he just waltzes in on us," if they wanted to make this easier, then that's fine by him. "And, you know, we're all basically half naked by now and hoooo boy, you should have seen the look on his face! Completely mortified-" his thoughts stopped short when he noticed the projectile headed straight for him. 

He let out a squawk as he dived for cover, but with a thunderous crack the lantern shattered it's mark. Glass pieces flew out over the street, glimmering in an explosion of deadly fragments. Before either assassin had time to even realize what happened Corvo made use of the newly formed hole with a running leap.

Out of the broken window he flew into the night air.

A rush of motion and light and Corvo Blinked to the safety of a roof across the street before gravity could take it's toll. His face was still tucked into a raised arm that had protected him from the spray of glass, but he felt a wave a relief wash over him when he felt his feet planted on something solid.

Quickly allowing himself to glance back he could see the Whaler with the bread gaping at him.

Corvo couldn't help but grin. With a spring to his step he made his getaway, the sound of glass and metal hitting the road ringing up from behind. Down the other side of the roofs, he'd follow the line of buildings until he found a good alley way to slip through.

It may have been a long time but he had not only successfully aim a Blink, but he managed to do it while while his vision was blocked. Also the broken window inconvenienced these bastards further by creating more work for them. Ya, he was a little bit proud, immaturely so but still.

For the next hour he spent his time brushing just out of the reach of the Whalers, running through the back alleyways and getting used to the Void powers for the second time in his life. It was exhilarating to move that quickly again. Five times they had even gotten a hold of him, and four of those he managed to Blink his way out. Although they still ended up recapturing him, it didn't really deflate the uplift in Corvo's spirit now that he knew he was trouble for the Whalers.

\---

The noon sun was searing as it begun it's decent towards the watery horizon in the west. It was his second day here and Corvo had completely lost track of just how many times he had tried to flee the grasp of the Whalers.

And he was still unable to get much further than a few blocks out.

However he could say that he was doing better than before. The Whalers had a lot more trouble catching him and his little jailbreaks played out to be much longer than before. Plus Corvo was delighted to say he was no longer incapacitated by the transversals, which he had learned was the name of their Blink. He probably gained some sort of immunity after how many times he was forced to endure it.

But now that they only left him dizzy and disorientated, Corvo realize that the Whalers could go _straight through solid objects_ with it. It was kind of unfair.

Even with letting go of all bars on the Outsider's powers, he still could not seem to keep to the shadows either. Most of the escaping was done on the run. He was convinced the Whaler must have gained some sort of new ability to zero in on Corvo wherever he might try to hide or something, which was down right infuriating.

His failure to be stealthy definitely was not because Corvo wasn't as sharp as he would be if he actually took a break every once and a while. Yeah, the Lord Protector still was completely healthy.

But he couldn't sneak up and choke any of them like he could before either. The only time Corvo could actually see any Whalers was when they were chasing him, and that didn't fare well with the sneak up and choke tactic, which was also caused some aggravation.

At this point Corvo was almost entertaining the idea of getting more violent than necessary solely out of spite. He couldn't bring himself to do it though, not with their apparent reluctance to ever attack him.

Actually... maybe if Daud showed his scarred mug for once he'd be able to do it; that was one man Corvo could not feel bad about giving a solid right hook.

But along with being rather peaceful during their chases the Whalers never tried to up the security, much less throw him in an inescapable dungeon. It was almost as if they wanted him to get out. They were playing it like this was a harmless game of tag, except everyone but him was 'it' and the consequences of Corvo not escaping could end up affecting the entire Empire.

If Emily had gotten hurt during the past days, he was going to come back and gut all of these masked lunatics.

Yeah, it had only been two days, but he knew a lot could happen in that amount of time. From this secluded town Corvo had no way of knowing what could have happened in the Empire. He didn't even know if there was any sort of civilization near there that could provide him with aid in returning to Dunwall. But that was why he changed altered his plans of escape for this run.

His objective this time was to try to reach the top one of those towers he had seen in the distance. As a good vantage point he could at least get a sense of where they were, maybe get an idea of where he could lose the Whalers.

All the escaping had got him familiar with the area directly around his room. It was easier to avoid the assassins knowing a little about the paths and obstacles he was going to face.

These guys had no clue as to the Lord Protector's plans, but during his last breakout he had accidentally uncovered a not so obvious entrance that looked like it would lead him straight through to the tower. The Whalers were hot on his trail that time, but the idea had started forming.

Long and high, the back alley he climbed into dipped down low past the houses into a lane carved out of the stone. It was a straight path that lead from what Corvo could tell was an apartment section to something of a market place. The sun filtered in between the bridges and pipes connecting the two sides of the lane, passing through the occasional small patches of vines growing off of the more mangled areas. What Corvo was looking for though was a small hole in a the bottom of a brick wall embedded in the stone.

There were small rats milling about around the entrance, just as there had been when he found the place.

Before any of the Whalers could catch up to him down there, he possessed a small creature and got moving.

Possession was never really his favorite ability. As useful as it was, Corvo just felt weird taking control of another being's will. Also he was currently a bloody rat and it was kind of difficult trying to concentrate on anything when there are all these foreign smells and urges bombarding you in this temporary body.

Something was off though. Twice during his escape he had found it favorable to hide in the form of one of the Serkonan rats in the alleyways, however even with the rats strong nose he never caught this scent. It was an oddly familiar sickly sweet smell. The name of it was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't pinpoint where exactly he knew. 

When Corvo flitted out of the possession on the other side of the hole in the wall, he understood why.

A cold shock raced down his spine as he stared at the long decaying corpses scattered across the poorly lit room. A few rats scuttled between them in the light seeping from a small high up window.

_By the Void,_ what had happened here?

He stepped carefully around the unidentifiable masses of rotting human and wood that dotted the floor. Their clothes were still mostly intact, and they looked like they could have been completely normal. They might have even been having a party down there. On the wall, ripped and rotting, was a fabric banner with 'Happy Birthday Cortez' painting in large letters, and fancy decorations sat forgotten around the room.

Or it probably would have been fancy if everything didn't imitate the wreckage of a devastating tidal wave. There was even pools of water here and there. Torn red fabric lay dirty, partly pinned to the walls, tables, and chairs that were scattered randomly in the cold stone room. Some of the debris was crushing parts of the human remains.

This one was way better cleaned than the last, but he should have expected Daud to move into another graveyard. It didn't look like his men or the plague had anything to do with these deaths though.

Stepping over once last corpse, scaring a small rat, he made it over to the only door in the room. It was broken and bent in. A last look at the damage and Corvo felt his heart ache for these people. There were no signs of anything being wrong with them, no weapons laying about other than slightly rusted forks and knives.

In Dunwall he had gotten used to this sort of thing, but it still bothered him. The Lord Protector believed that no one deserved this sort of end, and he was silently hoping that it was swift and merciful.

Turning back to the doorway this head bowed in a respectful farewell that they would never get from a proper funeral, he came the the realization that a quick death was not something they'd been graced with.

The door was bent in by pieces of wood that lead into a tall room, sticking out every which way in a blockade. There were clear indications that the people had desperately been trying to clear the cave in. Knives and broken glass pieces were still sticking out of the wood in dents clearly meant to try to break the wood, as well as some extremely deep claw marks complete with embedded fingernails.

Now it was easy enough for Corvo to break, only taking a little pressure to snap the pieces. It must have been eaten away with time.

Through the wood mesh of a wall it was just as poorly lit as the last room. Some light got in from above, but Corvo had to be extremely careful or he might end up like the corpse in the corner, impaled by a long piece of wood. He shivered.

The body had shattered quite a few bones from the looks of it. Peering up through the thinning pile wood, there were still platforms and wooden support beams sticking out with the pipes in the tall room. Corvo would hazard a guess they fell through from the top of now collapsed stairs. By the key laying near their hand, the person was probably trying to making it through the door at the top.

With a little bit of effort in avoiding getting too close to the corpse, he snatched the key up and backed away from the body's wretched stench. It was a simple metal sort of key for the doors of older houses. The rust wasn't bad enough that Corvo could consider it not working, he just hopes that this was truly the right key for that door above. With another sober glance at the corpse, he started his ascent through the cluster of destroyed stairs.

Blinking on a metal tube jutting out of the wall near the door, he unlocked it and carefully pushed the creaking wooden door, careful not to lose his balance on the slime covered old pipe. Warm light spilled into the room. Relief washed over the Lord Protector as he stepped out of the pseudo-tomb, locking the door again with a finality that he would never return to it.

The walls were water damaged up here as well, but the boards over the windows and doors still let in the warmth of the sunlight that he had dearly missed during his short time in the dank basement. It reminded him too much of a certain dark stretch of time in Dunwall.

He had stepped into the large main floor that once again had furniture thrown about randomly, but in the middle of the huge rectangular room was a set of damaged stairs that made a sharp turns into a square sort of spiral all the way up into an even more brightly lit tower that extended beyond anything else he could see in the building.

A triumphant smile crept it's way across his face.

Two steps at a time he bounded up the rickety stairs, almost forgetting that the Whalers were still out there looking for him.

Some parts where the spiraling path was too damaged he had to Blink across, but with each flight it looked more as if it was under construction rather than a long abandoned tower. He still ducked and dodged under each window. They may have been mostly boarded, but he didn't trust the Whalers to not actually have that magical 'Corvo seeking' ability he was wondering about earlier. It was paranoid, but in situations like these you had to be cautious.

Corvo made his mistake high up in the tower where the platforms that made up a floor split the flight of stairs. Despite the it looking like someones unfinished project he was under the impression that the wood could take his weight. He was wrong.

An entire section shifted and gave out under him, reflexes throwing him in a Blink to safety which unfortunately meant landing on a too small windowsill. Inevitably he leaned his weight away from disintegrating floor and onto the window shutter which had hinges that were still lose enough to swing open. Corvo barely managed to grab hold of it before he fell. The Whalers could probably see him dangling from the shutter right now if they were looking in the right direction. And if the crack of the floor collapsing didn't alert anyone then the deafening crunch from the bowels of the tower where the sections finally met the ground would have.

Corvo closed his eyes and cursed as he heard the first shouts of the Whalers.

His goal was the roof and his best bet to get up there right now to avoid delay was climbing around the building. He had a head start on the assassins anyways. In his panic to reach the top before the Whalers caught up he didn't even think to try and look around from there. Another oversight that could have been avoided if only he wasn't so fatigued.

Fingers scrambled for purchase on any ledge or crack he could find. There was only a little distance between him and the top.

From inside the walls he could hear the echos of the Whaler getting closer from the base of the building.

His heart was racing at the final stretch, Blinking the the roof and pulling himself up by a pole sticking out from the tapered roof he stood to survey the area.

Corvo stilled as he looked out on the coast.

It wasn't some crumby old norther beach with gray, rocky sands and a calm sloshing of a shallow beach. No, this was the envied landscape of Serkonos, mountains bright green with life rolled off into a beautiful gold stretch lining the ocean where there were no cliffs. Waves met with the strip of sand in a white froth of moving water and thunderous crashing that carried across the entire area. The water shimmered in an array of brilliant blues, clear enough for every detail of the reefs before the open ocean to be visible even from Corvo's current far off perch. Gulls glided through the cloudless blue sky, some swooping low over the water singing into the salty winds.

Something about this made Corvo his chest constrict with sorrow and nostalgia, but at the same time he was awed by the sheer beauty of the place he hadn't seen much since he was young.

He actually felt breathless.

Checking the city routes had completely slipped his mind and he didn't fight when the Whalers finally pulled him down.


	9. Chapter 9

For three days, Daud actively avoided interacting with Corvo. It wasn't a hard thing to do really, with all the work that still had to be done.

He had to send someone to the main island of Serkonos to get an update on local bounties, and someone else to check to see if any of their contacts had anything new for jobs. There was still some confirming to do to make sure they had received full payment for their previous works. They had reconnaissance too, finding out if targets were worth taking out, doing background checks, and figuring out the best possible way to go about finishing a job. There were corrupt dignitaries on their way to Dunwall who needed to be intercepted and killed for coin, and potential clients who wished for the deaths of perfectly honest men that needed to be declined.

Then there were jobs here, with a town to guard and maintain. The guarding part was easier now with a set of loyal hounds, but there were also areas that needed to be fixed, weapons that need to be cared for. Cooking and obtaining food for all these men was yet another problem.

Coordinating it all was always hell.

But, Daud did take the time to get updates on how Corvo was. From what his Whalers told him, he may be eating but sleep did not come easily. Half the time he was trying to escape anyways. Three days and already his escape attempts count has exceeded a dozen.

Each time, his Whalers caught him. It was extremely easy the first few times, as Corvo didn't seem inclined to use his Void powers at all. After about the fourth time though, Corvo finally caught on. Bringing him back into his room had taken more than team of two, and often became a wild goose chase. It was good practice for his men.

Daud was situated in one of the small offices, maps and papers covered the walls so you could barely see the gaudy water damaged wallpaper underneath. There was a small desk with a few lanterns placed right under a recently fixed window. He was trying to plan out a simple kidnapping of a rogue on the eastern Serkonan Isles. With a large bounty on his head and a close proximity to their home, he was a perfect candidate for the Whalers.

Standing in front of a crude map pinned to the wall, he examined the marks shown as the most likely spots for the rogue to hide. It was a large area, but they had three confirmations from credible sources that he was hiding there. Sending a team of six would be best for this mission, so they can spread out and find the guy in less time.

A large group of Whalers were running across the rooftops on the houses parallel to the one Daud was trying to work in. Their rapid footsteps were terribly loud and they were yelling at eachother. He peered out the window just in time to see one of his men get sent flying.

This time, it looks as if Daud was going to have to intervene.

\---

It was night out and the tide was coming in. In one of the higher parts of the town where the water just barely reached the streets Corvo was making another escape attempt.

Salt water splashed around his legs as he ran though the shallows, turning around the corner of a wrecked old store and bounding up a pile of crates onto a balcony. There were two Whalers hot on Corvo's trail, and he refused to be caught again. Emily was left unprotected in Dunwall, and he can't have a repeat of the what happened with Jessamine.

A Blink to the roof and he kept sprinting. He was starting to understand the lay of the land in these parts, and it was pretty similar to the Flooded District. It was like the beach party version of the Flooded District, with a long stretch of golden sand just outside of town. Not that he ever managed to get to it.

Their reasons for bringing him here still didn't make sense to Corvo.

With another Blink down to a walkway of wooden and metal boards he ducked inside an opened window in hopes of throwing the two chasing him off. Unfortunately he only to found more Whalers inside. With a mental lashing he dodged out before any of them could tackle him, Blinking to the roof of the broken old house across the street. There was shouting coming from behind him.

Sure, Corvo was quite glad none of them were shooting him with crossbows or anything, but why? Last time he'd seen them they all had gas masks on and probably would be willing to rip out his throat. Why the change?

Just barely missing a gaping hole in the tiled roof he veered right, disappearing from the Whaler's view behind a tower, and then down to a ledge below. Creeping along the damaged stone Corvo listened to his pursuers quick foot steps on the levels above.

Daud had said they were keeping him here because he was "unhealthy", and sure Corvo felt constantly tired, but that just didn't make sense. You don't just go from being enemies to caring about the others well being with a year of no interaction. They were probably just trying to set it up so they could do the same thing they did to Jessamine to Emily. Corvo would not allow that.

Shouting amongst themselves, he could hear the Whalers scattering out using their own version of Blinking. Transversal was it? Corvo got to the end of the ledge, waiting for one of the guys to move out of sight before going to another roof.

But... what about Daud's little speech back in the Camber of Commerce? It could have always been a show, but the man sounded so sincere. So regretful. How would he have even known about his presence anyways, if he didn't take notice when Corvo grabbed the key. Unless he was letting him do that, but then why lock him up in the first place? It still just didn't make sense...

The Whalers saw him regardless when he Blinked away, chasing continuing across uneven roof tops. Another bound over a railing, off a balcony. Breathing was becoming surprisingly difficult considering he's run farther with less troubles. Another jump over a ledge, onto a smaller house.

He supposed their reasoning didn't matter in the end, as long as he got back to Emily. She needed to be kept safe in this flimsy state of the Empire. The Whalers could all be insane anyways, like the shrine owners he saw in Dunwall.

Another turn around the corner of a tower and- fuck he was cornered. Where there wasn't a blockade of Whalers starting to close in, the were walls much too high to even attempt a Blink without some concentration.

The amount of times he's been captured in the past days was starting to get embarrassing.

One of the men to his right jumped at him.

Creating a blast of wind, he threw the Whaler away. The man had quick reflexes though, grabbing a railing edge with one arm. It was the wrong move.

There was an audible pop, and the Whaler kept sailing through the air. His back hit a building and he fell almost a story to the seawater flooded cobblestone street.

This was the furthest Corvo had gotten, and even with the pang of worry for the stranger's well being, there were other Whalers rushing to see if he was okay. He ran through the opening that man's fall had made and Blinked to another roof.

Corvo slid into a building through a small hole in a damaged wall, Blinking up through the caved in floor. Then again onto the roof. He had too keep running, he had to escape, he had to get back to Emily, he had not looked where he was going and ran right into a wall-

Oh, my mistake, he ran right into Daud. Before Corvo could realize what had happened the master assassin had him pinned to the roof.

He was furious.

"Are all your failed attempts at escape not a testament enough to the condition your in!" Daud's lips were curled back in a ferocious snarl to match his deadly voice. "Or do you need Empress Emily to get hurt for you to realize?" It sounded like a threat. Corvo started trying to throw the larger man off him, but it was futile. He didn't have the strength at the moment.

"Don't you dare say her name you bastard." Corvo spat, the grip holding his wrists down tightened.

"You've seen how easily my men have captured you, what do you suppose will happen if some other assassin tries to take her down? Do you honestly believe you'll stand a chance in this state? You look worse than when we found you with poison coursing through your veins!" At some point Daud had started yelling.

The Lord Protector was putting all his anger into glaring at Daud. "What does it matter to you." He ground out through clenched teeth.

"I prefer not see the one man who bested me and my men get killed from sheer exhaustion."

Corvo let out a bark of cruel laughter. "And you take away a vulnerable Empress's Lord Protector to prevent it? Rather spare the sinner than the innocent?"

"Three of my best men are in Dunwall now ensuring that she does not come in harms way. She is much more protected under them than with you right now." Something in Corvo relaxed at those words. It was stupid really, since he didn't trust any of them, but if what Daud was saying had any truth in it maybe she was in safer hands.

Or she could be in even more danger from crazed lunatics with Void powers.

That was all it took to renew Corvo's struggling efforts. He was unable to make the man budge though, iron grip still pinning him down.

Daud looked calmer now. "Once you are able to escape on your own, I trust you'll be healthy enough to get back to your job. We won't pursue you any farther." His words sounded like a promise.

He hauled Corvo up onto his feet, gripping his upper arm. None to gently, he lead him back the way they came, the foreign feeling Daud's transversals leaving the Lord Protector a bit dizzy.

Despite a splattering of brilliant stars replacing the warmth of the sun, it was quite comfortable outside. Waves drifted in created a calming background noise. Corvo hadn't notice before, being too busy running, but this town was actually pretty nice even with the partially destroyed buildings.

The two of them stopped near the small group of Whalers that Corvo had previously escaped past. They held a respectful distance between the injured one and the men helping him.

"How is he holding up, Halvor."

"Sir. He has a dislocated arm and a few minor cuts, but he should be fine." The Whaler who was tending to the man Corvo had thrown off the roof looked up at them. "We're waiting for William to get here before we put it back in. I wish to double check that he- ah there's Will." As if on cue a tall figure materialized right near Daud. He looked like he was just woken up from a nap.

"Good evening, Sir." The man, William, said respectfully to the assassin painfully holding onto Corvo's arm.

"See to it Tobias gets everything he needs. You have my permission to go to the village if you have to."

The men made all nodded at their leader's orders. Satisfied, Daud pulled Corvo along, back in the direction of his quarters. The other Whalers watched the two of them as they left. Distantly Corvo wondered if the wide berth they gave them was out of respect for Daud, or fear of him. They sure seemed weary of the the Lord Protector when they had to guard his room.

As they moved away Corvo could hear them positioning the injured man, Tobias, to place his arm back in. He braced himself for the inevitable.

There was a ear piercing scream. He could feel Daud tense beside him, and in his peripheral vision the assassin's mouth was in a tight line.

The rest of the way back was made in silence.

\---

"If you wish, you can write a letter to Emily." Corvo turned to the assassin leaning against the door frame. His voice was soft. "My men will make sure it gets to her."

The room designated as the Lord Protector's was more like a tiny apartment, and it was in fairly good condition compared to the rest of the town. Besides the main area with the worn bed and desk, there was an old kitchen, a bathroom and what looked like a boarded up closet. It wasn't nearly as big as the place he had with the loyalists, but it was still generous.

Currently it was only lit by a few lanterns in the corner. Usually there was a light bulb on, but Corvo learned that they avoided using electricity, especially when the tide was in. They said it was a precaution.

"There should be a box with some parchment and ink in the kitchen."

Keeping silent, Corvo just nodded. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep. He was too tired for more glaring contests, or getting thrown around after trying to escape.

Corvo sat down on the old bed in the corner of the room, ignoring the look Daud was giving him.

Daud sighed, turning to leave. He stopped short though, looking back over his shoulder. "Rest, Corvo, for Emily's sake." With that he closed the door. Corvo felt himself stare a the closed door for a while in shock at the words Daud had left him with.

As much as he hated to admit it, Daud had a point. For the last months he hadn't felt like himself, and most nights sleep eluded him, keeping him up worrying about the status of Dunwall. There still was so much work to do that Emily could not quite handle. Dignitaries don't believe such a young person, and a girl no less, should be head of the Isles. They wish to extort her, bend her beliefs to their whim. Corvo had to be there to make sure that didn't happen.

He also had to be careful and avoid using the powers the Outsider gave him at all costs, as to not frame Emily with occultist dealings in this already disastrous time. But it had all been weighing on him; what if those men he trusted weren't being entirely truthful? Are there those who are planning an uprising against Emily? Are there anymore assassin? Did someone see the mark on his hand and came to the wrong conclusions?

It had become to difficult as of late to focus on anything but the social drama of the court. The last few months he hadn't even been able to concentrate on any physical training, between the worry, stress, and fatigue. Would he really be able to protect Emily like this?

Perhaps Corvo really did need a break.

However, he really rather not spend it around the people responsible for Jessamine's death. Each time he saw those blue uniforms of the Whalers he was reminded of that cursed time after her demise. It was much worse with Daud, since he had actually seen the assassin take her life. Corvo had never been so tempted to brutally murder someone before.

He knows he couldn't though. Not just because he physically couldn't at the moment, but his morals stopped him as well. Taking someones life wasn't a new feeling to Corvo, as people who had tried to harm Jessamine in previous years had left him with no other option. It wasn't something he was fond of, the feeling of life seeping out of a person's body because of you. That was not a feeling that ever quite left you.

So he only reserved killing for the most dire of moments, which didn't happen very often. Corvo could still count on his hands how many lives he's taken. Each memory of their bodies going still under his hand was vivid in his mind.

But... there was also Daud, and what he has said. The man who had plunged the sword straight through his beloved Jessamine had become... regretful. Corvo knew that from the speech in the Flooded District, and it was part of the reason he let the man live. At the time he had thought that Daud would simply leave, never to be seen or heard from again so Corvo wouldn't have to deal with it.

Unfortunately, here they were. The Whalers had brought him against his will to a ruined town, somewhere in Serkonos by the looks of it, saying it was for his own good. Daud had stated that he had no part in the kidnapping, but how much of what they say is true? By his words that day he almost sounded like he cared about Emily's fate, and how could you really trust that when he murdered her mother.

Too bad that in his state he could only really go along with what was happening. None of them were hostile towards him, and they were giving him a chance to rest, so that was good. But what really was their motive?

Corvo went off to the little kitchen to find the box with the pen and paper.

Of course he was going to take Daud up on his offer. Three days without the Empress hearing anything from him was definitely not a good sign for a Lord Protector. The Whalers might not even send the letter in the end, but it was the only thing he could even try to do to assure Emily he was still alive. Corvo couldn't return to her on his own.

Now all he had to do was figure out what to tell Emily.

Worrying her was not an option with all the burdens already piling on, nor was trying to send for help. She had enough to deal with especially now that Corvo wasn't there, he couldn't ask her to send people to look for him. And what would they do if they did find him? No one could stand up to supernatural charged assassins like this. It would be a slaughter.

The best option seemed to be going along with Daud's plan and escaping when he's healthy enough. There were other people he trusted to help Emily in the time being.

Corvo sat down at the small table in the room, lit by the lanterns, and started writing to Emily.

\---

The next morning when one of the Whalers went in to give Corvo breakfast, he found a letter sitting on the wood floor at the entrance of the room. It went straight to Daud.

\---

Emily stood in the door way to her study, hand gripping the handle of the door firmly. She was ready to scream.

Across the finely carpeted floor and dancing shadows cast by the warm fireplace was a tall tattooed man. Frozen between a clean oak desk and open glass window, he stared at her like a rat caught while sneaking through the kitchen. In his tight grip was a white envelop with a purple seal.

She didn't know it but the man had purposely dressed down to a simple shirt and pants combo so she wouldn't recognize him as one of the people that abducted her, which would likely scare her.

He didn't look vicious though. Corvo had taught Emily the best ways to tell if someone was going to attack, and his arms and legs apart in a stance that was ready to defend. Or run. It was more likely that the guy was going to thrown himself between the fluttering curtains and out into the cool night.

"Uh..." The Empress tilted her head in suspicion as the man gave a deep bow. She may not trust the situation at hand, but she wasn't going to set guards on the guy just yet. They had a lot of space between eachother, and there was a pair of guards a little way down the hall. Nothing this man could do would reach her in time to do anything. He didn't even look like he was armed more than a knife at his belt.

"I... have a message for you. From Corvo. Who's fine by the way. Huh..." All the tiredness that plagued Emily from the sleepless nights disappeared at the mention of her Lord Protector's name. Mr.Tattoo-head tossed the letter onto the desk, where it slid on the finely polished oak surface before coming to a halt. "If... If you want to send him something too... just, like place it on a balcony or something. I'll find it. Uhm, the name's Finnian by the way." With another deep bow, he slipped out into the dark night.

The window shut with a small click.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS forgot i didnt upload this chapter

“He just says that he got caught up in old business and he will be back as soon as possible…”

Emily continued to stare down at the parchment in her hands, folds from sitting inside the too-small envelope bending it over her firm grasp. On it she could see Corvo’s distinct bold handwriting scrawled down the yellowing paper in a rich blue ink. Her lips formed tight frown, worry line appearing between her fine eyebrows.

Her entire body felt cold with dread and fear for her the safety of her Lord Protector. The fireplace she stood by did nothing to warm her. Last night at this very place a strange man had managed to creep through the tower’s defenses to leave this vague letter; no fighting, no stealing, he just left the envelope and got out. It was odd and unnerving.

In some small way she almost regretted not apprehending him for questioning.

She was, however, thankful on deciding to leave the window unlocked in hopes it would be the Lord Protector crawling through. If it wasn’t for that, who knows if she would have received the letter.

“‘Old Business’?” Callista questioned from her seat on one of the over stuffed red leather chairs. She sat neatly with her hands in her lap, clean black shoes planted firmly together on the decorative designs of the Tyvian carpet spread out over the floor of the sitting area in the study. Emily respected how she could always pull off that air of elegance, despite the current situation.

“That sure has an ominous ring to it…” The sailor added, voice gruff as ever. With arms crossed Samuel had taken to sitting on a stool, which was still too plush for his tastes, posture rigid. The last year had been gentle with him, but he couldn’t escape the effects of the missing Lord Protector, his weathered features were tense, usually kind eyes narrowed into a something much more serious.

All three of them were concerned about the lack of information on the whereabouts of Corvo Attano.

The four of them had stayed friends since the loyalists incident. After all, they had survived that entire fiasco with plague and Lord Regent together, Emily felt it was important for anyone who worked through a tough time like that to keep in contact.

Callista had been hired as the official private tutor for the young Empress, while Samuel refused all the offers of the ‘fancy jobs’ to keep working the river. However, he and Callista had started fishing together after she mentioned her dream was to become a Whaler. Most of their catch was either thrown back, or secretly bought by the royal kitchens, since they didn’t want to risk publicly selling anything with the attitude toward females working in the fishing industry the way it was. It was good fun for the both of them though. Corvo and Emily often joined them during their trips to catch up and take a break for the hassle of being head of the Isles.

Samuel and Corvo also had been going out to sea together, sometimes for fishing, sometimes just to chat about nothing in particular. The old boatman had been the last to see Corvo before he disappeared, and he still remember the tired look on the Lord Protectors face as he left. His subtle hints, as well as outright statements, that Corvo needed rest were not heeded by the stubborn man. Even when Callista tried to get him to see reason he refused.

Corvo had even denied a rest day when Emily asked him, too dedicated towards her and the Empire. The Empress couldn’t really bring herself to be more forceful as she was still shaky with her position. She felt his help was crucial to her rule.

And now that he had been gone for five days, she didn’t know what to do.

The Empire is getting along fine with out him for the time being, but how long will that last? He knew so much more about actual ruling, rather than all the theories she had been taught by advisers and teachers and her own mother, but never got to try to out on her own. Dealing with situations itself was much different than dealing with the ideas. She needed the Lord Protector back.

However, she had no idea where he was, or if he was okay. She could get the military involved, but Corvo could be caught up in something that could get him in trouble as well. Emily sure didn’t want to chance him getting sent to Coldridge again.

Samuel and Callista were the only ones she could really trust with this sort of sketchy business.

For the time she had claimed she sent the Lord Protector away on vacation and upped the amount of guards on shift. It would distract the public until she could figure something out. But she didn’t want people to get nervous about a possible repeat of what happened when the last Empress when she sent her Lord Protector away, especially when she herself was nervous about it.

“I was hoping that you two would maybe know a little of what he might have meant? There was… a lot of stuff I wasn’t told, so…” Emily bowed her head.

The two adults exchanged worried glances.

“Afraid not, Miss Emily.”

“No, I’m sorry Emily.”

The Empress gave a defeated sigh, clasping her hand behind her back with the letter still in hand. “Then what’s happening? Corvo would never leave like this,” she looked towards the muted light of the cloudy skies outside the window, “not without saying something first.”

Samuel watched as the young lady passed by him on the way to the desk. “Corvo is in a dangerous line of work, Miss,” he slowly reasoned as she laid the letter out upon the oak piece of furniture. In hopes of finding something she might have overlooked, she leaned in and scanned the parchment again.

“but he can take care of himself.” The sailor’s eyes were soft as he watched the anxiety ridden young lady.

“Can we really be sure, though?” Callista wrung her hands, worried for both the Lord Protector and for the young Empress. She was hoping Emily wouldn’t have to deal with the death of another person so close to her so soon.

But this was reality.

Emily whipped around from her spot at the desk, eyes wide. “Don’t say that!” she cried out as Callista stood up. The Empress refused to believe Corvo could come to harm, not after all that’s happened, not after all he’s survived for her. It couldn’t be possible.

“J-just…” Her head dropped again “don’t…”

Emily felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Callista had walked over, trying to comfort her with a warm but concerned smile. With a moment of weakness, Emily allowed Callista to wrap her in a motherly hug. Samuel was left to look away from the rather private moment they had.

“None of us like it, but we have to consider the options, Emily. Is there a chance someone else could have made that letter to look like Corvo’s writing?” She spoke into the young lady’s dark hair, hand stroking her back in soothing motions. Playing the devil’s advocated here was not fun, and Callista understood Emily’s troubles, she really did.

Unfortunately it was necessary. Someone had to bring it up, and Samuel was still too soft hearted towards the girl, leaving her to put out the less favorable options.

Luckily, she was brave enough to do it.

“I… I don’t believe so,” the young Empress, stepping back and standing a little straighter, brow knitting together in concentration. She wouldn’t admit it, but the hug had helped. “Mother had…” She shifted her weight, eyes were glazed over for a second before focusing again.

“She had developed this system- we use it if we’re ever in trouble but can still send a message. Corvo and I have been using it as well.”

“Writing system?” Samuel moved closer to see the paper Emily was pointing at.

“Like we finish all i’s and t’s with right to left strokes only when we’re not in trouble. And we have a secret code word we can sneak in, too.” The Empress couldn’t help but smile a bit, remembering the first time she was taught this.

Both Samuel and Callista examined the writing she was pointing out. “It still could be Corvo’s then,” the boatman sounded hopeful. At least they could say Corvo was still alive.

The tutor straighten up and addressed the Empress. “Maybe we should we talk to my Uncle about this?”

Emily shook her head. “We’re not even sure Corvo’s in danger right now, and our Royal Spymaster already has so much to address.”

“If this goes on too long, I still think it would be important to talk to him about it…” Words getting muffled by the hand she put over her mouth. Her eyebrows were drawn together as she glanced at the other adult in the room.

Samuel couldn’t bring himself to disagree with her. “She’s probably right, Miss Emily.”

The young Empress nodded solemnly to them. She wished that it wouldn’t have to come to that. “There has to be something we can do though…”

“Is it possible to contact Corvo as well?” Samuel asked, causing Emily to brighten in realization.

“The man who gave me the letter said we could send one back to Corvo! We can always try!” Immediately she flung into action, sailing about the room looking for paper and ink. She had already explained the situation of the man at the window to the two of them, and neither of them knew how to take it.

Callista dodged the young body with the ink bottle headed for the desk. “Maybe you could try to confront him when he comes to get it?”

“It’s possible,” Emily pulled up the stool to the desk. “but I don’t want to scare him away. He could be the only one we can contact Corvo with.” The two adults came up on either side of the Empress. The mood in the room got considerably lighter once they had a direction on how to go about fixing the problem of the missing Lord Protector.

Samuel leaned on the desk with one arm, other hand on his hip, watching as young Emily set up the letter in the fine swirling handwriting only taught to nobility.

“Would I be given permission, Empress Emily, to join you in such affairs?” Callista smiled. She knew the protective quality in her friends tone. “I think I would like to meet this fellow.”

“I agree with Samuel on this one. A nice little chat with him would be very enjoyable.”

With a sigh, Emily shook her head. “If you must.” Her word were fond though. “But if you two scare him away, I will not be happy.”

They got to discussing what they would write to their missing companion, and how they could catch the elusive man who had dropped off the Corvo’s message.

—-

With the letter off to Emily the only things to occupy Corvo’s time was sleep and his own mind. The former of the two was not something he could continuously do, no matter how tired he was. His fatigue was not only that of the body, but of the mind as well, and it would only go away after a time of relaxation. Too bad his brain wouldn’t let him do that.

Now awake from the bright sunlight flooding his room, Corvo was left with his thoughts racing in circles. All questions only lead to more questions.

Why was he brought here? Was Daud and the Whalers actually keeping him here out of worry for his health? If so, why in the Void would they care? They killed Jessamine, and regretful or not caring was not something a bunch of assassins should be doing, so what point did they have for bringing him there?

Around and around, in and out, always returning to the same place like the tides. It was frustrating.

Corvo wished he wasn’t too tired to punch somebody. Namely Daud.

At some point during this whole crisis, the ceiling had become very interesting. Staring at the white surface, his back against the dusty white wall he was sitting in the middle of the lumpy old bed that smelled like sea water. Fuck, everything smelled like that here. Salt and water damage. It shouldn’t be all that shocking considering the distance to the ocean.

Even now he could hear the waves crashing in the distance. An entire week here, and Corvo hasn’t even had a chance to actually get to the sandy beach how sad is that. He let out a dejected sigh.

Outside this room there was a larger room, like a lobby, connected to other doors and two huge windows. He knew this by the few times he had tried escaping that way, but there was always at least one Whaler in there at all times.

It seemed like it was mainly a break room of some sort, but sometimes it became the ‘fuck lets all play cards in here so we can be loud right near the prisoner and taunt him with our freedom’ room. These men had a tendency to be pretty noisy despite being deadly assassin. But Corvo couldn’t complain. When they did start yelling it gave him a good guess as to how many people were out there before they get shushed by another patron of the space. He had used it to gauge how distracted the men were before sneaking out.

Really, he wished they would get chatty just so he could listen to something other than the incessant questioning of his brain.

Corvo eyed the window, searing afternoon sun streaking in from outside. Temptation to use it as escape route drifted through the back of his mind. It’d be pointless though, he’d be spotted and caught, like all the other of fifteen or so attempts. He might as well just rest while he still could.

Except now the window was only the cause of his inability to sleep.

This room was way too bright.

Corvo pushed a hand through his hair. Slumped against the wall like this, he felt like a useless rag doll. After months of always rushing around in Dunwall on official business… Now being forced to just sit around and do nothing had to be some form of torture. After Coldridge he knew he didn’t fair well without being occupied. He didn’t care if it was bringing down an entire Empire or teaching a handicap whale how to swim, he needed to do something that didn’t involve staring at the nonexistent pictures in the stains of ceilings.

Two days ago when the Whaler who brought him his breakfast left with the letter to Emily, Corvo tried to keep himself busy with some physical exercise. In the end though he felt too exhausted to even do a few push ups. That in mind, how exactly had he managed to make all those escape attempts without passing out? Was it the adrenaline?

Maybe he was too tired to function without the adrenaline that he got when he had a purpose? If that really was the case, yeah, he really wasn’t that healthy right now.

Damn it Daud was right.

But it didn’t make him want to stay here any more; he was worried about Emily and the events of the court and what would happen without him there. He could rest in Dunwall without fearing an anxiety attack over this. And it would make it a whole lot easier to relax to not be around the people who had murdered Jessamine.

Honestly, why did they bring him there? Wouldn’t it be pretty easy to assume that he’d be angry at them about the death of the person he was suppose to be protecting?

Corvo made a quiet groan of frustration and hid his face in his hands. There he goes again, back to that circle of thoughts.

He needed something to occupy himself with.

How could Daud and his bloody Whalers say he was there to ‘get back in working condition’ when they are just keeping him captive with nothing to do. Being a prisoner was not something that was really considered healthy, for many reasons.

This was horrid, being worried about everything and being able to do absolutely nothing about it.

Corvo even found himself concerned about the man who dislocated his arm, which was another thing he couldn’t really check on like this. That escape attempt was the only one he had felt guilty about. Screw the Whalers and distracting them from their work, if they’re going to keep him here he refused to sit quietly. Well, he had refused, until he ended up dislocating someone’s arm and getting pinned to a roof. It would be easier in the end to just rest until he could return to Dunwall on his own.

At least he had gotten Daud angry at him for it, that kind of felt satisfying in a way. The guy was pretty… under control most of the time? Stoic? Relaxed? Something like that. It made Corvo a little glad he was able to get some kind of extreme display of emotion out of the guy.

There was a knock at the door. He sat up straighter on the bed as the door burst open in a swing of movement.

“Helloooo there Mister Attanooo!” The guy’s pitch rose and dropped in a dramatic fashion, tray balancing on a hand over his shoulder. It wasn’t hard to tell this would be one of the more friendly Whalers. “Today’s lunch will be cooked deep coral Selachii soup. We hope you enjoy!” With a bit too much force he dropped the try on the desk, making the content rattle. Nothing fell though.

The Whaler was in his full uniform, sleeves rolled up and no mask or hood to hide him. He turned to look at Corvo, grin spread wide across his face. He seemed to be expecting something, like a thank you.

Maybe he could be used as a distraction.

“You don’t seem that nervous of me as your friends are.” Corvo had slid to the end of the bed, one leg crossed over the other. Resting his chin on his hand he watched the other man with refrained interest. All he received for that was an owlish blink.

But the Lord Protector waited patiently for an answer as the Whaler crossed his arms, taking on a thoughtful look and leaning against the wall.

“I guess I’m not,” the nameless Whaler’s shoulders rose in casual a shrug. “You haven’t hurt anybody so I guess I don’t feel that threatened by you.”

“And your friend with the dislocated arm?” Okay maybe not the best direction for a distracting conversation to go. The Whaler just frowned.

“It’s bound to happen when your rough housing like that.” Well now, that almost made him do a double take.

“Me escaping is called ‘rough housing’?”

“Yes, actually! Some of us had a lot of fun with it. We were taking bets on who could go the longest without using the our powers, or getting hurt and stuff,” he was grinning again. “Tobias’s arm got me sixty coins.”

“You made a game out of it.” Corvo deadpanned.

“Well yeah, we Whalers get hurt all the time. I bet it wasn’t too bad and will only take a week or so before he’s back working, beeeecaaauuse luckily for us some of these tattoos here,” holding up his arm he tapped the tattooed skin exposed by his rolled up sleeves, “help speed up healing.” Somehow Corvo doubted what he was saying. Those inkings looked quite similar to the mark on Corvo’s own hand, left there by the Outsider. If those were related to the Void, was it really possible that they helped healing, and why would you trust it. He cocked his head at him completely suspicious of the words.

“Why are you telling me this.”

The Whaler stuffed his hands in his pockets, still giving him a charming smile. “It’s not like we have to keep secrets from you, and you looked prreeetty bored. Figured I could help entertain ya for a bit.”

Well now, what a stroke of luck.

“If you really wanted to help me,” Corvo shifted in his seat on his bed, leaning back and crossing his arms, challenging the man. “Maybe you could sneak me something to read?”

A moment of consideration and the Whaler’s face brightened, pushing himself off the wall. “Or better yet, I could bring you to our book archive!”

Was he suggesting Corvo could get out of this cursed room?

“…would you really?”

“Well, boss only said to prevent you from escaping… I don’t see any harm in escorting you somewhere.” Oh yeah he took up the Lord Protector’s challenge. Beat it too, while taking the chance to go the extra mile. Maybe the Whalers really weren’t all bad.

He motioned for Corvo to follow him out into the lobby, leaving the food forgotten on the desk. Corvo wasn’t really hungry anyways.

“Aw man I’ve been wanting to hang out there for so long. Daud’s been working us to the bone, I’m telling ya man. Just got back from catching some meddlesome thief or rogue or something on the islands last night and already I’ve had to help clean out the weapons room and fix the north way tower’s top floor,”

Corvo tuned out the animated chatting of his escort in favor of memorizing the layout of the building. He wouldn’t try anything now of course, but it could be helpful in the future to know the possible escape routes.

As they made their way up from the fourth floor they saw a small group of Whalers, waving at the pair as they passed. They made a joke about smuggling Corvo out under their noses, but his escort only claimed in his own dramatic fashion they were going on a ‘date in the library’. The group just laughed.

By the Outsider’s eyes these were a really strange bunch of assassins.

On the top floor, only two flights of stairs up from Corvo’s room, the Whaler finally lead them through a doorway near the stairs.

It was one of the least damaged rooms Corvo had seen so far. The window looked clean and new, sun shining on a the back of a simple chair and desk with papers and books spread out on top of it. The rest of the room matched the weird organized brand of clutter the desk had. Stacks of books sat on the floor as well as the dark red couch, cushioned chairs, and tables that sat to the side of the door. Lining the room were various sized bookshelves filled with to the brim with colourful texts of all kinds.

Corvo studied the novels on the top shelf of the one nearest to him, finger tips brushing the spines. There were books from all over the Isles. Ones on Natural Philosophy, history, religion, theories of ‘black magic’. An even larger array of fiction sat in it’s midst, tales passed down from old, newer adventure novels, mysteries, romances. This library had everything.

Gently pulling an old leather bound book on ancient myths, Corvo looked over at the Whaler who brought him here.

“Thank you for doing this…ah…” With a small tilt of his head, he silently asked for the name of his savior from boredom and anxiety.

“Sinclair.” He supplied with a proud smile. “Now do believe I have to stay here and make sure you don’t, well,” he gave the Lord Protector an exaggerated wink, “make a break for it.”

Corvo couldn’t resist the small chuckle as Sinclair went about scouring the piles of books. Yeah, maybe these guys weren’t all bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaannd now we are up to date with the kink meme


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this took quite a while imsorrysob
> 
> also a big thanks to pentemychos on tumblr for helping me edit!

The hidden cove had been put to good use by the Whalers since moving into the town. Their work frequently called for them to leave the island, which wasn't all that convenient when it meant constantly needing to sail a huge whaling vessel, especially when they needed more than one group off of the island at once. It became a necessity to have a handful of smaller boats they could hide.

Between work and maintaining the docked boats, there was really no better way to get to the makeshift ship yard than with the underground pathways.

It was a much shorter journey than the road to the coastal village uphill from them, but it still took an hour at walking pace. However it wasn't an unpleasant journey. Snaking through natural caves littered with pointed towers of stone hanging from the ceiling or reaching into the air from the cold but calm underground lakes. Ripples occasionally marred the clear water surface from the fish flitting about underneath or stray droplets slipping off the rocks. A distant echoing of waves crashing against cliffs were carried by the stale winds finding it's way through the rocky terrain.

The caverns alternated between being high and spacious and the dark closed spaces feared by travelers. Warm sunlight filtered through in some areas, lighting the caverns and creating shifting patterns where the rays would reflect off the water.

But it was a labyrinth down there- take the wrong turn once and it could lead to the other side of the island. At least if the tunnel system actually went that far. No one knew for certain as the few who did ventured off the path never quite made it out again.

The Whalers knew their way through this maze though. In times past doing jobs while at sea they were regularly needed in these waters, so they made use of the stealth provided by the out of the way cove as often as they could spare, learning the tunnel systems so the water damaged markers were almost unnecessary.

Daud ducked into the smaller passage to the entrance of the town, holding his lantern a little higher to provide light for the dimming path.

He had gone to the main island of Serkonos to visit some old contacts who went to the trouble of getting a hold of him about having some useful information. Although it's true usefulness was difficult to judge since it was all written in an dead language. For all he knew they just gave him a series of recipes for a seafood deserts, which was doubtful but it still stands. He would not deny them when they demanded his presences, even if it was only for the small stack of papers bundled up in his pouch; they have given the Whalers some invaluable tips in the past it would be a waste to ignore them now.

Besides, in one of the more largely populated cities along the way hid a tagged leader of a band of slave trader. The guy wasn't a big-name criminal by any stretch, but it was a well placed opportunity for Daud as he really did need the distraction provided by slitting someone's throat. As roach of the world, the man wouldn't be missed if an assassin wanted to waste some energy on eradicating him.

Daud had still been a bit ashamed of the outburst with Corvo.

He felt like he lost something with that display of weakness in his control, but never before had he seen someone so _set_ on disobeying his orders. Daud was both intimidating and commanding. Not many dared to go against him for an extended amount of time, especially in such a hopeless situation as this with too many attempts at getting back to Dunwall holding absolutely no results.

Although, he supposed the Lord Protector had good reason to rebel, but it still annoyed him to no end.

That combined with the anger of seeing one of his men get hurt just-

Not one of Daud's most rational moments.

But it might not be a total loss as the Lord Protector seemed to have settled down afterwards. When he left for the main island the afternoon after the confrontation on the roof Corvo hadn't caused any trouble, staying put in his designated quarters. Perhaps it stayed that way while he was gone.

The lantern rattled as he hung it up on near the cave gate, now useless in the deep light that stretched out from the sunset. Long shadows of the houses were cast where he stepped out from the cliff face entrance into the town border, using a hand to shade his eyes from the oncoming glare of the sun. The town was silhouetted in pink and purple hues against brilliant skies of twilight.

This truly was a beautiful place. He looked out to the sparkling section of sea that wasn't blocked between the cliffs and the town, salty breeze washing away the damp odor that clung to the caves. Waterfront property without the hassle of over population, weepers or the Empire's military; really it was the perfect hideout. Thank the Void he was able to secure it for them.

The moment Daud had taken to appreciate the view was almost enough to miss the desperate shouting.

" _Barnacle, get back here!_ "

Out of nowhere came a familiar blurred shape that Daud was quick to side step, just managing not to pull his knife out on the thing.

Even if the black creature did continued to circle and jump at the master assassin after that first failed pounce, the wolfhounds aren't the enemy here. At least, according to his men they weren't. Daud still wasn't all that fond of them though. They were good at guarding what they needed to, so he didn't quite hate them, but he had too many bad experiences with being on the wrong end of a those beast's opinion.

Now that they were properly trained in favor of the Whalers, they kept watch over both the entrance to the town and to the tunnels. There was a small strip of land between the cliff face and the town, leading from the tunnel to the uphill paths and they found it to be the perfect spot to have the hounds roam. With its close proximity to both the entrances and large area for maneuverability, it was strategically the best place for the vicious creatures.

Plus it was only a short walk to the gigantic field at the top of the hill owned by a farmer who allowed the hounds to run free so long as they don't attack the horses. No one would need to worry about that though, as their resident keeper Milan was once a professional wolfhound trainer who was quite skilled at his job.

"Sir! I'm so sorry!" The large hound set on greeting their mighty and unwilling leader with a slobbery kiss was frantically being pulled out of reach. Thankfully.

"Tadeo," Daud relaxed, taking care to step back and let his Whaler scold the young animal. It didn't seem to deter the black ball of fur. "I didn't realize you would be back so soon."

"Yep, Jeremiah and I just got back a few hours ago. It was very nice to spend some time sailing," his smile was soft as he ran a hand thought the hound's fur in a futile attempt to calm it down. With a small 'oh', he looked back up to his boss.

"Isaias and Finnian send their regards. They say the Empire is in safe hands," the paw pressing against his face muffled his words. His grip around the squirming animal stayed tight, swatting away the offending limb.

"Tiberius on the other hand demands to know 'why he has to keep working with these dimwitted gull-fuckers'. His words, not mine," Tadeo stated politely.

Seemingly fed up with the energetic beast, he ushered it towards the more experienced trainer, currently feeding a group of those vicious wolfhounds in one of the courtyards attached to the lane.

With his Whaler's back turned, Daud didn't resiting the small snort of amusement that bubbled up as he continued on his way up the path to the into town. Sometimes he wondered about his men.

They all had their dark pasts and regrettable reasons for taking up the blade, but it was outstanding how well his men could hide it. Despite the pain each one had endured, the sorrow, the anger and the unspeakable things they've all seen- despite it all his men still managed to find reasons to take time to enjoy life in such a carefree way. It added to the long list of reasons Daud took pride in his men.

"Oh, wait," Tadeo was jogging to catch up to Daud, hand shuffling around inside his coat pocket with a look of concentration.

"Sir, we got a letter for Mister Attano," a pristine white envelop slipped out of the fold of his coat between gloved fingers, passing it over to his leader who took it with a nod.

"It's from the Empress."

Daud hummed, completely unsurprised.

He had read through Corvo's letter and he intends to do the same for Miss Kaldwin's. Corvo hadn't written anything unexpected, he just made up an excuse as to why he wasn't with her without prompting her to take action. It was a rather smart move, for many reasons, that he had made no outright calls for help.

Or at least none that he could identify.

Judging by the way Tadeo hadn't left, he still wished to talk. Daud tucked the letter away as he returned to the path. If he wished to continue this conversation he would have to do while they walked because Daud had things to do and people to check up on.

The Whaler did indeed follow, footsteps light as they made their way up the sandy cobblestone, matching Daud's long strides with an uneven sort of speed walk. No words came from his mouth though.

"Any news on our guest?" The smaller man perked up a bit at the question.

"Oh, well Milan told me he hasn't tried to escape since you left..." Tadeo paused, biting his lip in indecision, looking like he was about to say something that he knew should earn him fist to the gut.

"Sir, you respect him... don't you?"

Daud slowed his path up the stone steps.

Let's see, Corvo had tore down the Lord Regents entire system of control directly after surviving six months of torture, proved himself to be able to do so without taking a single life, and escaped him and his Whalers without being seen. Yeah, Daud undeniably respected Corvo.

However admitting as such out loud was more difficult than anticipated, ending up in a gruff agreement that may have been muffled by his heavy footsteps moving off of the stairs.

Perhaps it had been a while since Daud could properly say he respected someone with the same intensity as he did with the Lord Protector.

"From what I gather, he's not quite happy about being locked up. I really don't think he's ever going to like you at this rate," the Whaler ventured on.

That made Daud level him with a look.

"Whether or not he likes me does not matter, Tadeo. It's more important he shapes up and starts acting like the Lord Protector who had escaped us in the Flooded District." Tadeo pursed his lips, gaze dropping to the long shadows cast on the road.

With that he turned and continued on. Daud definitely did not flee, but his pace as he went down the cobblestone street was quicker than he was willing to admit.

His Whaler persisted.

"Sir, what if," he could practically hear the fidgeting, "to get Mister Attano...back to health, he has to be... comfortable here? With you?"

When his leader made no comment the small Whaler quickened his pace, addressing him in the most valiant attempt at addressing him face to face while walking.

"You remember Lulu, the first hound we got? The one that tried to bite your foot off?" Daud gave a small grunt. Of course, the one wolfhound that started the whole fiasco with believing that they can totally steal a bunch of dangerous animals and use them for our own purposes. In the end it didn't turn out that bad with their new guard systems, but he admittedly wasn't completely comfortable with it.

"When we uncovered her from that pile of rubble she sure didn't like us enough to touch her. We couldn't get a splint on her leg until she was comfortable enough to stop biting," he emphasized the word comfortable as if it would help him prove a point.

His voice was taking on an almost desperate sound.

"So, maybe if you show Corvo we're not that bad he'll be more compliant! Like little Lulu! You've seen how obedient she is. We could get him back to work faster." Ignoring the fact that his Whaler might be comparing Corvo Attano to a wolfhound, he took a sharp turn into a small courtyard and busied himself with opening the newly replaced door.

Tadeo stood anxious at the side, voice going soft.

"He could even become an friend if you let it." The master assassin sucked in a breath, whipping around to face his subordinate.

" _You honestly believe it's possible to grow fond of the very person who ruined your entire life?_ " Daud heard himself snap before he could think better of it, his assassin immediately responding with a wide eyed flinch. He hadn't even realized he had raised his fist.

No, his temper was not getting him here.

Daud straightened momentarily before sinking back to lean on the door frame, hand cover his face to block out the look of utter fear etched on his Whaler's face. That was not at all the reaction he expected.

Maybe it was out of shame of what he did to late Empress Kaldwin. Maybe it was the guilt of that had caused. Maybe he was just having a really bad week.

Tadeo still stood there though, albeit stiffly, waiting for his leader to gather his nerves with a few deep breaths.

"Well...you know that wolfhounds are extremely intelligent, Sir. I don't believe she- Lulu I mean- would have forgotten that... we gave her that broken leg in the first place. But she still learned to trust us. It could be the same with him." He didn't move closer, but he did give an open armed gesture when Daud peered up from behind his hand.

"It just takes some effort to show him you regret your decision."

Perhaps his wariness over this entire situation was clouding his judgement, but it was worth a shot he supposed. There would need to be a whole lot of planning though. It seem quite the difficult task to approach the Lord Protector without being shut down by an icy set of glares so harsh it made a Tyvian winter seem comfortable.

\---

After checking on his injured man, Daud was planned on going to straight to work. His contacts had given him enough translations to keep him busy for a few solid hours. Although, they rather liked trying to make Daud jump through hoops to get what he wanted, so he would hazard a guess there's more to it than simple translations but it might be worth it for what they supplied him. Besides, on occasion he welcomed the challenge.

He was surprised to find his book archive had been graced with a pair of visitors.

There were lanterns glowing with the light from outside fading and Sinclair had draped himself over one of the cushioned chair, legs hanging over the arm rest. It looked like an uncomfortable position but the Whaler remained ignorant to the possible aches and went on with his curiously loud brand of reading. The couch had been claimed by the unexpected presence of one Lord Protector, any air of relaxation he may have had before disappeared as soon as his eyes snapped to Daud entering the room. He was sitting neatly, one leg crossed over his knee, face carefully void of emotion.

However the death-grip on his book gave away his, well, dislike. Actually he was less worried about Corvo acting on it than about the state the book will be in once he lets go.

With a loud thump Sinclair proceeded to scramble off the chair, which might have been after a overly dramatic double-take that no one was particularly paying any mind to.

"Sir!" He shot up from the floor to salute his commander. "Hello! Welcome back!"

"Good evening you two." Daud passed them, calmly giving a nod to Corvo and the stuttering assassin.

Avoiding the piles of books and odd papers scattered on the floor he retrieved an old leather bound text on ancient languages that sat atop of a simple shelf in the corner of the room. Corvo sat quiet, keeping a cold eye on Daud while Sinclair did an impression of a nervous bird, jumpy to find an excuse not to get scolded for slacking.

Sinclair may skip out on the chores way too often around here, but if today it included keeping their guest out of trouble, Daud wasn't going to complain.

This desk was however was something to complain over. The entire room was more of a mess than he left it, meaning his men must have put this place to use while he was gone. He'll have to get someone to clean up later. The mess of papers and books on the flat wooden surface blocked out any sort of hope of working on it. Old text placed aside Daud got to stacking papers and replacing the books on their proper shelves.

"Er, if you don't need me... I have...." Sinclair started to inch towards the door, pulling at his collar nervously.

"...Dinner to help clean up," Daud stopped and raised an eyebrow at his juvenile antics. Honestly, he looked like an child caught playing with the good cutlery. With a small wave the Whaler stepped out and closed the door. Quick footsteps could be heard as Sinclair sprinted away, leaving the master assassin alone with the Lord Protector.

Was it just him or did the temperature just drop a few dozen degrees? Damn this was going to be awkward. Daud hadn't even made a plan on how he could try and get Corvo to warm up to him, and now they're stuck in the same room together.

Okay, not necessarily stuck together, but Corvo didn't seem keen on moving and Daud was planning to do the translations in the library so wouldn't it be like fleeing to leave now?

No, he was going to stay and he was going to try to get on better terms with Corvo. Even if that means he had to improvise. Daud was well versed in figuring out what to do when something unexpected happened. He could do this.

...How in the Void was he going to do this.

How do you get someone who had their entire life ruined because of your ignorant actions to trust you? Is it even possible?

The master assassin betrayed none of his panicked thoughts as he slid the last books back on their shelves. His mind raced for possibilities and strategies on how he could make this work- 

He stopped.

The letter from Emily. It was still in his belt pouch.

While he was planning on reading it over, it could work to his advantage to give it to Corvo now if only to stop him from giving death stares for a second. It could also possibly show the Lord Protector that he could indeed stay true to his words.

Maybe it could make a good starting point for gaining, like Tadeo said, some sort of trust.

The glaring continued as Daud walked towards him, not even breaking it when the pristine white envelope was offered.

"It's from Empress Kaldwin," his tone was flat. Corvo's eyes darted between him and the letter.

Neither of them moved from the stare down, Corvo relentless and Daud putting to use his years of experience with putting on facades in harsh tension.

"Am I expected to believe that?"

Daud quirked an eyebrow, "I'm flattered if you believe us to be skilled forgers, but I can not say that is a craft any of my men would spend their time on."

So that didn't lighten the mood at all. Fine then, if Corvo was just going to stare at him like he was some mystically obnoxious enigma then he'll just get back to work, dropping the letter to the space next to the man on the couch.

"You can judge for yourself if it truly is hers," with that he left Corvo to do as he pleased. As he sat down he could hear the faint crinkling sound of paper being unfolded.

For some reason that felt like a victory.

"If you wish to write her back, you may do it here," from out of the desk he produced an ink bottle, pen and paper, setting them clearly out on the corner of his desk, making sure Corvo saw where he placed it before getting to translating.

He was curious to see if Corvo would come get the supplies or keep acting like being around the master assassin would give him the plague.

They both kept to their work, heads down. However, Daud could feel the glances from Corvo every now and again, cautious and quick. Probably making sure Daud wasn't about to jump at him with a knife. He ignored him in favor of getting through the stack of papers.

...Wow, they weren't even speaking to each other. This plan was going extremely well.

But the Lord Protector had a letter to attend to and Daud had his translations, so what more could he really do right now? At least neither of them had decided on fleeing.

His pen stilled.

On second thought, perhaps that _was_ something. Corvo still hasn't even attempted to leave yet, maybe because he was attached to his own readings, maybe because he felt like he was going to get pinned if he tried, maybe for some other reason, but he still stayed.

That had to mean something. Even if it was just a statement over being able to tolerate him enough remaining peaceful while in the same room. Corvo at least trusted him enough not to try to get in another fight right now. In reality, that may not be too big of a deal but it was better than nothing.

This could be Daud's chance to try to show him he can be civil despite their _complicated_ past.

The faster he could get Corvo to a state where he's not a wound up ball of exhaustion, the faster they could send him back to Dunwall without knowing they were basically sending him to his fatigue induced death. It would work out well for all of them that way. Corvo doesn't end up killing himself from stress, Daud gets to live life sans his space outs.

And yes, he had noticed that ever since the Whaler's little kidnapping those momentarily lapses in awareness had ceased to exist. So his men were somehow right in that respect.

Although in exchange it seem to have given Daud a unique type of stress. At this point he just wanted to be able to send Corvo back to protecting the Empress so Daud could be his sharp self again without an overabundance of guilt. Everyone would be happy.

Or everybody could be happy if Daud could just get Corvo back to working condition. Apparently this will require some social effort between the two of them.

Due to the unfortunate event of Daud killing the one person Corvo was suppose to protect, he was really doubting his ability to actually do this.

They both kept to themselves in a strange silence. At least it didn't have that cold feeling of despise. Somewhere during this progression of thoughts Corvo had gone and swiped the writing supplies from off his desk without him noticing.

He took that as a cue to get back to work.

Daud was still trying to focus on translating when Corvo finished his letter. He had taken his book once more and moved back to he couch. The letter sat drying on the small round table it had been written on.

Still Corvo kept glancing up at the assassin. It wasn't a glare though.

Setting his pen down, Daud leaned back in his seat to give the other man a look.

"If you have something to say, you're allowed to say it, Corvo."

He gave a light frown, attention focusing away from where the head Whaler at the desk had caught his stare. The line of his jaw kept tightening and relaxing, as if he was battling on whether or not he should say anything.

Daud waited, fingers loosely threaded together with his elbows resting on the chairs arms.

"How is your Whaler doing," he slowly asked, ducking his head as if avoiding the look of mild surprise Daud was giving him. He only peered up at him when he went to clarify, "the one with the dislocated arm?" Both of the assassin's eyebrows were raised.

Of all the things he was expecting him to say, that he was not it. Corvo even had this look of guilt mixed with worry that we was valiantly trying to hide.

Leaning forward he moved his arm so his arms rested on the desk. "Tobias is recovering. The joint is still inflamed, but he says the pain has lessened considerably."

Some of the tension seeped out of Corvo's shoulders as he relaxed a little back into the couch, eyes drifting to the floor. Interesting.

"So those tattoos help with healing..." The Lord Protector looked like he wasn't exactly addressing him with that one. Perhaps it was a thought that just slipped out?

"Sinclair told you that one, didn't he," there was no question the words.

He took a sharp inhale, attention snapping back to Daud, "Don't be mad at him for it." Sitting up straighter Corvo looked as if he was ready to try to physically stop the assassin if he decided to do anything against his talkative Whaler. Daud just hummed in amusement.

"I don't plan to." For a brief moment Daud debated on if it was a wise to to give him this sort of information by confirming the statement. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to tell him, and the more honest he was with Corvo the more it might be returned.

"Some of them do draw some aid for healing from the Void. Granted, not much, but it helps with tight situations and fatal injuries." Relaxing again Corvo seemed to let the idea sink in. Distantly he wondered how much the Lord Protector might have already guessed about their tattoos, but he had more important things on his mind.

"Now, I've got a question of my own Corvo. Why exactly did you decide to come to my personal library."

The man addressed blinked. "You tell me I'm here for my 'terrible health', and yet you lock me in a room like a prisoner. It's contradictory."

Not really an answer, but he had a point.

"Boredom brought you here then?" His light tone won him a indignant scowl.

Maybe he could work with this; the translations can wait.

"You could have mentioned that earlier. We're not completely heartless here."

Corvo watched, stuck between anger and confusion as Daud went to retrieve a box from atop a tall shelf. It was made of a fine, deep brown wooden box with a pattern on the flat surface alternating between a honey brown and ebony.

Placed securely on the table near the letter with the drying ink, Daud lifted the top revealing a black velvet casing holding in small carved wood statues that matched the colours of the top. Taking them and with a practiced skill he set them up in a specific order upon the alternating squares.

They were going to play chess.

With a wave of his hand he silently gestured for Corvo to join him on the seat across the small table.

The Lord Protector hesitated, looking between Daud sitting relaxed in the wooden chair and the beautifully laid out chess set.

For a long, unkind moment, Daud was almost convinced he wasn't going to take up the offer and just sit there like a child after a temper tantrum. However, with a dubious look, Corvo gave in and slid into the seat.

As they started playing he counted it as another victory in his favor.

The assassin was right to assume a man so close to royalty would be familiar with the game of chess. Soon found out he wasn't too bad at it either, as they played in a silence only disrupted by the small click of wood pieces meeting the board.

Obviously he had experience with the game, and given enough time he might give a master strategist like Daud a run for his money. Now that's something he'd like to see. Maybe it could happen too, if he got the Lord Protector back in here for more chess sessions.

"You're allowed to come here any time you wish, Corvo." The man looked up at him, but Daud kept his eyes on the game.

The silence stretched on as he presumably weighed the sincerity of the comment until finally Corvo seemed to take favor in the idea of testing the waters, "Without an escort?" Daud gave a hum of affirmation, pushing a rook to the side. That seemed to spark some bravery.

"Is there a chance I can leave the building?" He moved a bishop, Daud returned with a knight.

"Will you try to run?"

Corvo paused, idly rolling his queen between his fingers. "It's not as if I can right now," he reached over to replace Daud's rook.

"We can set up a perimeter where my men know you're allowed to walk freely then."

"Why do you keep me here?" Corvo shot back before Daud had a chance to wonder about his own words.

"Because you look like a plague victim. Check," he returned quickly, his own bishop taking place in line with the Lord Protector's king.

His opponent halted.

"And why do you care about that? We're suppose to be enemies." Corvo stared directly at him with furrowed brows. He didn't move his chess piece, waiting like his refusal to let the game continue was going to retrieve answers sooner.

Daud's lips thinned. So this was becoming an interrogation.

"You're important to the Empire and to the Empress," he explained, both to Corvo and himself, "it... would be a shame if you passed away on us."

Corvo pressed on. "You're outside the boundaries of the Empire, what does it matter to you? Is this an action of guilt?"

He leaned forward, "Would it be wrong if it was?"

Corvo was silently sizing him up, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"How can I trust that you're not just trying to blind side me to get Emily." Nothing moved for a small while, then Daud let out a soft sigh.

"I suppose you cannot simply trust me. Not in your position. However, I will assure you there is no safer place for your Empress right now than with my men."

Corvo stayed silent and moved his king out of the reach of Daud's piece.

"Whether you believe this or not is up to you," he added for good measure as he pushed pawn forward.

Corvo opened his mouth before thinking better of it, instead he moved his queen.

They fell once more into a silence as their pieces danced together across the board. Daud was sure he had taken a step back in their progress with that last bit there. No matter if it was the truth, the Lord Protector can't be fond of the idea of not being the one to be able to guard the fair Empress from the cruelty of the world. Stating it outright like that may have lost him some credit.

Finally Daud got a checkmate and it was all over.

However, where he was expecting the Lord Protector to abandon the game he instead started resetting it in a unspoken cue for another round. Daud was more than happy to oblige.

Perhaps he was wrong about losing some of the little favor he might have gained?

As the game of strategy begun once more the room was once again stayed clear of noise, though it wasn't a hostile silence that they settle into. However it wasn't comfortable all the same. He couldn't say just how much, but progress was made today that's for sure. 

"Your men... they're a strange lot." Daud thought he was hearing things for a second. He looked up sharply at his companion. The man was just sitting there looking at him with a sort of patient look people sometimes get when asking a question.

Was Corvo actually initiating the conversation between them? That was, to say the least, a huge surprised.

Yeah, progress was definitely made today.

"What makes you say that?"

Corvo tilted his head and peered at him, looking rather incredulous like he just asked what where in the Empire Dunwall was.

"They braided my hair while I was unconscious."

Ah.

"Right." Daud covered his mouth with a gloved hand as soon as he felt that light upwards tug at the corners of his lips.

"They're good at what they do, so I have no reason to complain." He let his arm slip back to it's place resting against the table. Corvo was watching him carefully.

"You care about them." It wasn't a question.

"I do." He meant it. All things considered, there's not much he wouldn't do for his men. They worked well under him and together they had made something akin to a family. A pretty messed up family mind you, but they were a tight knit group nonetheless. He could never bare to lose more of them than he already has.

"May I ask ask something of you?" With a little tilt of his head Corvo wordlessly waited for him to continue.

"When you recover enough to escape, if you come looking for blood, take my life but spare my men. They only follow my orders, they have little part in," Daud looked away, "deciding what we do."

Corvo stared.

"If Emily is harmed in any way while I'm gone, I will come back for all of you." It almost sounded like a joke. Almost.

Daud still relaxed though as they return to playing in silence. That had been throw back at him, but he found he completely understood why.

But that made him realize something; it was pretty obvious Corvo wasn't as cold towards him as he was before, however if he truly wanted him to relax around here he was going to need some trust from the Empress as well. Those two were too close for that not to be the case.

Unfortunately, she had been there during the assassination, she _seen_ what he had done to her mother. He was even sure she would know his name by now, and Daud couldn't even guess how writing to her would affect the young lady. What would a scarred adolescent do when receiving a letter from the person who killed their own family? But these two had a strong bond, and if he wanted any hope of building trust with the Lord Protector he's going to need the Empress's trust as well.

Daud decided it was unavoidable; he needed to write to Emily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow daud you picked the perfect people try and get to trust you huh  
> (corvo is an a+ conversationalist yep)


End file.
